


The Stark Authority

by Chocopiggy



Series: Infinite Ironstrange [15]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Captivity, Dark Tony Stark, Eventual Powers, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Fluff, Forced Relationship, Friends to Lovers to Enemies, Gaslighting, Getting Together, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kidnapping, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mild Smut, Minor Character Death, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, One-Sided Attraction, Possessive Tony Stark, Protective Tony Stark, Sad Ending, Self-Indulgent, Slow Burn, Sorcerer Supreme Stephen Strange, Stalking, Superior Iron Man, Threats, Whump, surgeon Stephen strange
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:00:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 37
Words: 61,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24577960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chocopiggy/pseuds/Chocopiggy
Summary: "The Stark Authority. Huh. Has a nice ring to it."What's a little more devotion dedicated towards the ones you love? Well, the one you love.An alternate universe where Tony Stark is leader of The Stark Authority, a dangerous regime with dangerous ideals, prioritizing protecting the earth, demanding obedience from those he's protecting.And so what, if Tony is doing all this for his only love, his ex Stephen Strange? Who just so happens to be leader of the largest rebel group against Tony's power? There's nothing you wouldn't do for the people you care about.
Relationships: Past Christine Palmer/Doctor Strange, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Series: Infinite Ironstrange [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696747
Comments: 253
Kudos: 188





	1. Missing Him

Putting out fires was part of Tony’s job as leader of his particular branch of government, which was essentially him running the whole thing from the shadows, at least officially. Publicly, most people caught on he was in charge. AKA the man to kiss up to. Sifting through the various documents on his desk, he signed whatever was necessary, authorizing invasions of certain cities here and there, shipping resources to the borders, and so on.

Looking at a recent inquiry of what to do regarding a certain loss in one of his sectors however, he took a second glance upon seeing the photo attached, of a very particular man, with blue eyes expressing ferocity and strength, signature silver streaks marking his black hair.

Usually ‘losses’ were smaller, reported _constantly_ despite Tony’s insistence that one of his assistants could handle cases like that, and shouldn’t waste his time, but this man was responsible for quite a few of the major hits Tony’s regime had taken.

Apparently this time he was seen looting some of Tony’s warehouses, which would have been an easy-enough one man job given his incredibly… unique abilities. Unique enough to fight against 20 guards without actually killing them and steal enough to feed an army (that apparently wouldn’t be Tony’s).

Tony couldn’t help but grin at reading this, however. The hatred he had for leaders of other rebellious groups just didn’t hold the same with Strange. As if seeing this attack on his men was some kind of reassurance that Stephen was still alive, rather than what it really was, just another failure on Tony’s part.

Tony supposed his obsession with Stephen Strange (okay, okay, _Doctor_ Stephen Strange) began as soon as he laid eyes on the wizard, _years_ ago. When they were both just striking, above-average men that happened to be in the same room. Drawn to each other by forces neither could hope to understand.

Of course, their eventual meeting (again) would have been impossible to avoid, since Stephen was leader of one of the more rebellious groups against Tony’s rein. And Tony would have _no choice_ but to respond to this attack right? It would undermine his authority not to, of course.

Who was Tony kidding, he couldn’t care less about the warehouses. While he did want to maintain control of what he gained so far, there was no real rationale for why he couldn’t just send more AI soldiers to deal with Strange instead of going himself, other than he really, really wanted to. They hadn’t parted on the greatest of terms some time ago.

Couldn’t Stephen tell that Tony was only trying to _protect_ entire populations? And that they made it impossible to do so when they scoffed at terms like ‘absolute control,’ calling his regime something along the lines of a dictatorship? If only they could have worked together… _power couple._

Tony could deal with name-calling, however. Sticks and stones and all that. As long as his own soldiers stayed loyal (which he could ensure through public punishments of the rebels he caught), and his technology was safe from outside forces attempting to seize his inventions, he maintained control.

The rebels he caught were often ill-equipped, looking more like troubled homeless than anything. Which shouldn’t have been a problem, he offered free housing to any citizen who simply signed an agreement to work under his rule, as anything from a soldier to a caretaker. And of course, anyone who disagreed…

But then there was Strange. Elusive, fast and powerful. Of course, not powerful enough to take down Tony as head of the state (which had recently expanded to most of North America), but able to pinpoint certain weak points in Tony’s defences, and target those to cause problems, most times more problematic to try to fix then to just leave alone.

Tony could tell what Stephen was trying. Start at the base level with simply destroying resources that fed Tony’s power, and work up, often taking soldiers rather than killing them, which definitely showed off the pacifist-doctor side of Strange, almost opposite to Tony in that respect.

Killing was clean. Easy. And you knew the job was done then and there. Prisoners could further betray you, or cause future problems. They took up resources. Food, water, probably therapy after working for Tony. Newspapers remarked on Tony’s rise to power as something called the Stark Authority, which he thought had a nice ring to it.

And unfortunately was slowly being chipped away by Stephen and his own rebel group, which somehow avoided the public eye enough that they didn’t have a name, despite being such a significant enemy of the Stark Authority. Tony preferred to call them the Wizards. Less threatening, definitely appropriate.

The Wizards were nothing without Stephen however. Because they were constantly under threat by Tony’s soldiers, they seemed to instinctively operate haphazardly, scattered, in the most disorganized of ways. Stephen was one of the few responsible for keeping them in line, choosing missions only when the benefits far outweighed the risks.

Tony missed when they were on the same side. When Stephen used to keep him in line. Tony laughed to himself at the memories of that. Stephen scolding him to get at least 6 hours of sleep, to eat something for breakfast instead of just downing four espresso shots in a row. To behave at extravagant parties instead of just getting shit-faced before the speeches started, clad in whatever elegant suit Tony had specially altered for him. Usually the darkest of blues, close to black. Tony wondered if Stephen still had any of those, or if he himself had any still in the penthouse.

Before the Stark Authority began, Tony and Stephen had been dating for over a year. He missed when they would kiss and hug and do more explicit things freely. Tony felt loved then, cherished, like he was doing something right for once, but seeing Stephen act out against his regime, he only felt betrayal, but deep down, also some longing to reunite with his ex.

And he’d be damned if, despite everything Stephen said, against Tony and his new methods of governance, he didn’t think Stephen felt the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals!
> 
> I've been wanting more dark ironstrange f o r e v e r, so introducing my first multi-chapter fic... I'm thinking once-weekly updates, on Saturdays.
> 
> If you enjoyed reading this, consider leaving a kudos or a comment (or both! both is good). Regardless, thanks for reading! 💛
> 
> Insta: @itschocopiggysart  
> Tumblr: chocopiggy.tumblr.com


	2. First Meeting

_Five Years Before…_  
Tony felt great. Greater than he had in the longest while. Slightly high on the feeling of success, after a lab binge he was sure lasted less than a day (despite JARVIS and Pepper telling him otherwise), he decided to head out to a bar. Have a drink or two. Maybe bring back an unknown someone to keep his bed warm for the night. It’s Friday after all.

Seeing his bodyguard lounging on one of the couches in the main hall, he called out. “Hey Happy! Bring the car around, would you? We’re heading out!”

Getting up, Happy questioned Tony. “The same bar?” Tony usually liked to frequent some cozy, dated, slightly grungy bar called Rocco’s, known for its cheap beer and easy company. It tended to serve the desperate, tired types of people.

Tony thought. “Nah, feeling a little more uppity tonight. Maybe La Marguerite.” La Marguerite (the Daisy), on the other hand, was for the more high class, productive citizens of the city. High and mighty lawyers, celebrity surgeons, engineers such as himself, the list went on, simultaneously being incredibly exclusive, remaining difficult to get into any day of the week.

“Got it boss.” As Happy headed off, Tony headed into his room, changing out of the greasier tank top he had chosen to wear working on his inventions, into a burgundy button-up shirt with black dress pants, donning a pair of black sunglasses with gold accents to pull the outfit together. He was nothing, if not fashionable after all. He added a little gel to slick back his hair just enough to intimidate the average citizen (his less dressed-up fluffy hair didn’t have quite the same effect).

Sliding his wallet and phone into his back pocket, he headed out to the car, effortlessly sliding into the backseat after Happy had opened to door for him. Tony drummed his fingers on his knee to the tune of the music playing over the speakers, which at the moment happened to be the song Choke.

Arriving at the club, Happy dropped him off directly in front of the main doors, ignoring the lineup of hopeful people along the side of the building, and drove off to park elsewhere. Odds are less than half of them would get in tonight. Getting out of the car, all it took was a wink and a sly smile directed at the bouncer before the rope was lifted to let him in. Tony was a frequent enough guest, after all, easily recognized.

Inside, tall columns of white and soft yellow lights illuminated the main floor, where patrons dressed in thousand-dollar dresses or suits danced to tasteful music. Tables took up most of the indoor balconies overlooking the main floor, where time was spent schmoozing with big-time business owners/leaders of small countries. A sleek black grand piano took up much of the far end of the floor, played nightly.

Tony headed for the bar on the left, gray-tinted lights flashing the underside of the drink shelves. Gesturing to the bartender, he ordered. “Whiskey, neat.”

The bartender did a double-take after recognizing Tony. “O-of course, Mr. Stark.” Tony said nothing else, making a point to glance back at the floor as if in a hurry to meet someone else.

Taking a sip of his drink, Tony went up to the balconies. He leaned against a polished dark-wood railing, observing the dancers below him, the meetings around him, the pianist who had just taken a seat at the piano. Huh. Maybe Rocco’s _would_ have been a better option tonight. Tony felt like meeting someone _smart,_ after his achievements tonight, but not anyone so… _fake._ A common trait of the patrons here was having smiles that never reached one’s eyes.

Just as Tony was considering calling it a night, that’s when he heard it. A deep, intense, quiet voice, clearly passionate about what he was talking about, uncaring of whatever light-hearted small-talk the others were into, a beautiful contrast to the waltz being played live downstairs.

He turned around, seeing the owner of said voice standing at one of the tables, gesturing to papers he had laid out over the tablecloth, apparently trying to explain something to the disinterested chief surgeon of one of the nearby hospitals, the chief being someone Tony recognized easily enough.

His voice turned out to be just part of his appeal however. The man was _tall,_ this being accentuated by the black-on-black ensemble he donned, complete with an elegant silver watch on his left wrist. He had slightly curled black hair, silver streaks on the sides, a strand persistently falling into his face that Tony would just love to tuck back.

One of the most enticing things about this man was the fact that Tony had _never seen him before._ La Marguerite had a pretty consistent patron-list, with revolving guests, so Tony knew most of them, the rare newcomer becoming easily integrated into the crowd.

Tony suddenly wanted to know everything about this man, where he was from, to how he got into the club, to what he was doing with the rest of tonight (hopefully something Tony could assist with). He had the feeling this guy could be more than entertaining enough even without the physical stuff. Not that he would mind having just the latter anyways…

Just then, the man carefully but swiftly collected the papers into a neat pile, tucking them into a briefcase Tony hadn’t seen before at his feet, brown leather with heavy clasps. He shook the chief’s hand, pure elation lighting up his eyes grateful the chief agreed to… whatever he was proposing, and proceeded to head towards the elevators, looking as though he were going to leave the club early, which Tony just couldn’t allow.

Tony knocked back the rest of his drink, leaving the glass on a nearby unoccupied table, rife with other empty glasses with smudged fingerprints, crumpled napkins, the odd cocktail umbrella. He raced forward to catch the mystery man by the elbow, right as he hit the elevator button. He looked at Tony questioningly, raising an eyebrow.

Tony’s breath was taken away at that first glance however, a little preoccupied with those cheekbones… and those _eyes_ … blue and green and grey somehow simultaneously, hiding more secrets than the deepest oceans, which Tony longed to discover.

“Um, Mr. Stark? If you don’t mind, I really must be going.”

The smooth baritone voicing his name snapped Tony out of it. Letting go of the man’s elbow, not before smoothing down a crease in the sleeve, he spoke up. “Call me Tony. Where are you heading off to? Maybe we can adjust your plans for this evening, Mister…”

“It’s doctor. Doctor Stephen Strange. And no, these plans can’t be readjusted. Was there something you wanted to discuss?” he said stepping into the elevator, with Tony on his heels.

“Well, Stephen, yes, there was something I wanted to talk about. Specifically, this fateful meeting between the two of us, and all the possibilities of it.” By this point they were near the front doors, Tony having to do a light jog to catch up with Stephen and his damn long legs, plus his brisk pace.

Stephen looked unimpressed. “I’m going to stop you right there. At least half of those ‘possibilities’ you’re probably thinking about aren’t possible. I’m not single, and still not free tonight, despite your subpar attempt to persuade me otherwise. Speaking of, I’m running late now, and really must head out. If you want to discuss business, you can book an appointment with my secretary. I doubt you need it, but here’s my card. Goodbye, Stark.”

With that Stephen pushed open the front doors and stalked off into the night, leaving Tony at the main entrance holding his card, in awe of Strange.

The card itself definitely reflected the personality of its owner: flashy in a minimalistic type of way, sleek, high-quality paper, with the information in fine black print:

**Dr. Stephen Vincent Strange, M.D, P.h.D  
Metro General Hospital - Neurology Dept.  
New York, NY  
647-209-7*****

Pocketing the card, Tony exited the building and headed off in the opposite direction, texting Happy to pick him up early. “Well, Stephen, it’s been nice,” he said to no one in particular, already planning out their next meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals!
> 
> Hope y'all are doing well. The feedback from the first chapter was SPECTACULAR, I'm glad so many of you are intrigued by this fic. Hope this didn't disappoint.
> 
> Also! The song reference is Choke by I DON'T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME. There's a beautiful Villain Ironstrange playlist I listen to on Spotify by someone called vengefulvictory, and-- fork, I forgot their Tumblr page (if you're vengefulvictory and reading this, please tell me your Tumblr). But yah, I listen to that while writing this fic, so check that out!
> 
> Um, love you bye 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)  
> [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	3. Research

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: can't really think of any other than that yandere Googling of a crush-type of thing

On the ride home, Tony leaned back on the seats so he could just see the lined ceiling of the car, sunglasses on so Happy couldn’t read his expression. He turned the card over in his hand several times over, before pulling out his phone and typing out the name, having just enough time to skim over the basic information before they arrived at Stark Tower.

Inside, his research continued. No social media, which was a little odd, but luckily, friends, or at least acquaintances of Strange’s, tagged him in photos, clearly not as caring about privacy as the man himself. The Metro General page took a candid photo of him at a desk, clearly too absorbed in whatever he was studying to pay attention to the camera. Not that his photogenic attributes suffered for it.

Other pages included Nicodemus West, who seemed like someone just excited to be associated with Strange. Not someone to worry about then. However, an impressive collection of photos of Stephen was on a page owned by a Doctor… Christine Palmer. Of course, most of these photos included the two of them, rarely having one with just Strange, but Tony still envied her for being able to take these any time she wanted.

This must have been who Stephen was meeting tonight, why he didn’t even give Tony a chance. Why he isn’t single. A girlfriend. Bright and bubbly _Christine._

Tony had to admit they looked good together. A contrast of the broody Stephen Strange and the outgoing Christine Palmer. They looked completely comfortable with each other, smiles teasing in candid photos and elegant in staged ones. Looks like they’d been together a while, based on how long Tony could scroll down the page, adding to his… frustration.

One photo in particular caught Tony’s eye. Apparently taken on a rare day off for both Stephen and Christine, they went to the library, like the nerds they are. And in this photo, it showed him oblivious to his snowed-on wool coat or damp hair, leaning against one of the shelves (though carefully not wrecking any of the books behind him, Tony noted), engrossed in what seemed to be a novel about some family in the southern US, a small smile on his face, eyes reflecting greater pain.

Stephen just looked so, in control, elegant in keeping himself together even while seeming to reminisce in past agonies. Almost ethereal in the sun streaming in from the windows, as if he was meant for royalty being among dark wood and miles of knowledge.

Tony wanted, more than he remembered wanting anything before, or anyone. Previous conquests of his were often too eager to return his desires, trying to shadow their greater interest in his money or fame rather than his personality. But Stephen seemed like a challenge, an enigma prettily wrapped up in dark secrets like the greatest Christmas present Tony could ask for.

Of course, Tony could maybe get a head start in trying to understand the man, see what the dark web has to offer, assisted by hacking programs he had devised in his teens (seriously, privacy’s a _joke_ ).

Strange’s banking records were clean, neat, organized. While he did seem to have a habit of buying luxury items on any ordinary day, Tony could only empathize with that type of material self-indulgence, and of course is something he’d be _more than willing_ to let Stephen indulge in once they were together. It’s not like money would ever be a problem with them, the billionaire and the high-end neurosurgeon.

His main buys included take-out from vegan restaurants and (surprisingly) ice cream parlours, the occasional splurge of dining in at some Michelin Star place (probably with _Christine,_ Tony thought with great disappointment), and an extravagant number of watches: Jaeger-LeCoultre, Rolex, TAG Heuer Monaco. Well, now Tony knew the way to this man’s heart.

His search history was nothing spectacular, either. Mainly researching new medical techniques, experimental research projects. He had a playlist of over 500 classical music pieces on his computer, mostly piano. A pianist like Tony himself then. Wasn't the only kind of music he was into, apparently. The rest of his music library consisted of pretty much anything from pop to rock to alternative, and then some.

Education-wise, incredibly impressive. Straight A’s in high school, located in Nebraska of all places (ha! The great Stephen Strange from the midwestern United States!), joined the pre-med program at New York College, got his MD and PhD at the same time, according to an eidetic memory one of his professors was eager to boast about (why?), invented a laminectomy procedure with Christine at Metro General.

Medical records, Stephen Strange was (and is) as healthy as a person could be. Perhaps sleep-deprived, according to his physician, but who isn’t nowadays? They did point out minor depressive episodes Stephen had in his youth however, apparently related to the sudden death of his younger sister… Donna, right around the time of his seventeenth birthday, and his parents weren’t all too helpful through his grief.

Which means the parents are probably _still_ out of the picture, if Tony could guess from his own daddy issues. Stephen did have an older brother, Victor, but he didn’t seem to be very prominent in Stephen’s life either.

Old boyfriends and girlfriends had posted pictures of him from his younger days, so Tony could see the less worn version of him, fluffy black hair and less crinkly around his eyes from when he smiled, definitely more mischievous than he would now. Tony preferred the grown-up version of him, more war-torn, which he’d be sure to tell Stephen on their nights out.

His overall impression from his research told Tony that Stephen was definitely a prince among men, someone he wanted to love, cherish, protect at any cost. He could also gather that Stephen was very careful about who he kept in his company, and from their first meeting, business-before-friends seemed to be his default setting.

Alright then. Tony could work with that. Pulling the business card out from his back pocket, he dialled the number (well, JARVIS did, clearly knowing Tony’s intent), and the line rang, Tony uncaring of how late it was in the night.

“Hi, this is Ashley, Dr. Stephen Strange’s secretary at Metro General Hospital, how may I help you?”

Tony grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> Of course, your feedback/comments/kudos based on the last two chapters is ALWAYS appreciated... thank you thank you thank you!! 💛
> 
> I have one recommendation for all my ironstrange ppl... there's this editor I'm subscribed to on YT called Spellbound, and they did the most AMAZING edit of Tony and Stephen... would highly suggest you check it out :) [Here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gtwxRtwIJTM)
> 
> [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)


	4. The Consultation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: discussion of coma patients (not that heavy but kind of scratching the surface?)

Stephen was having a pretty good day, as far as he was concerned. Handled a few consultations in the morning, a subsequent (very) successful surgery, then a lunch break with Christine getting coffee at the nearest Starbucks (he didn’t perform quite as well on a full stomach, which made him feel sluggish).

Since there were no chaotic and sudden accidents today, at least near Metro General, worldly or otherwise, Stephen might get to go home early today, which believe him, happened only on _very_ rare occasions. He just had one final consultation, and then working on some paperwork before heading out.

He walked over to his secretary’s desk to get the file on his (potential) next client. She had an oddly conspiratorial grin on seeing him approach her. “Hi Doctor Strange. There’s actually no file for this next client, he insisted that everything that you needed to know he would communicate to you through this meeting.”

A bit… odd. There’d usually be at least _some_ type of info sheet before Stephen made his way to meet whoever booked an appointment with him. “I’m not gonna get murdered here, am I Ashley? Maybe they just didn’t want to leave a paper trail,” he joked.

“Trust me, if he murders you, he’s popular enough that there would be at least a dozen eyewitnesses that would definitely remember him leaving your office when the consultation ends.”

That only spiked Stephen’s curiosity more. “Alright, I’m heading in then.”

Straightening his scrubs (as much as they could be straightened, anyways), he walked into the consultation room, halting in the doorway realizing who was waiting for him inside however.

“Stark?”

“Strange,” Tony replied with an easy smile, as if it was the most normal thing in the world for him to be there. He put down his phone, which he was apparently entertaining himself with while waiting for Stephen to see him. Ashley was right about the eyewitnesses, Stephen’ll give her that.

He wasn’t quite sure where to proceed with this consultation already. Stephen hadn’t seen Tony since that odd night at La Marguerite, when he was trying to convince the chief of surgery to provide extra funding for one of Stephen’s patients that night, who was worth saving but couldn’t afford healthcare, that night ending successfully of course.

When Tony had seemed adamant on taking up the rest of his night when he was already running late to meet Christine for the celebration they had prematurely planned, knowing Stephen would get the funding without issue that night.

Realizing he was standing too long in the doorway without saying anything, emphasized by Tony raising one eyebrow expressing confusion, Stephen cleared his throat and closed the door behind him, taking a seat across the table from Tony. He figured, may as well treat this like any other consultation.

Tony spoke up first, breaking the silence. “Surprised to see me?”

“How can I help you, Mr. Stark?”

“What did I tell you about the ‘Mr. Stark?’ Please, call me Tony.”

“Alright, _Tony,_ why did you want to meet today?” It felt weird being on a first name basis with a billionaire, but there’s a first for everything, Stephen supposed.

“Well, I allocate a certain amount of funding towards hospitals every year, based on the types of innovations their people come up with that could make real change.”

Stephen nodded, encouraging Tony to continue.

“And so, I’ve obviously read up on several doctors’ work from hospitals across the country, but your work just happened to catch my eye. Trying to re-stimulate certain parts of the brain in order to wake up coma patients? I can see the potential.”

“Thank you, Mr— Tony, but if you continued reading the rest of that paper, you’d see I noted this was something future generations would have to attempt, we just don’t have the technology. As of now, this concept is _purely_ theoretical.”

“No, _you_ don’t have the technology. Haven’t you heard? Stark Labs basically houses the future. It’s just waiting to get out. And it is people like you that can help with getting it out there.”

“I appreciate the optimism, but I’m sure there are better projects you can invest in, much more practical ones at that. If you want, I can send you a list of essays with concepts that are significantly more plausible.”

“Come on doc! Where’s the fun in _practical_?” Tony said that last word in scorn, continuing. “Guys like you and me, we aren’t looking for plausible, easy, normal projects. We’re here searching for the _impossible._ Things that make it into history books. And then some.”

Stephen leaned back in his seat, almost pushed back by the level of Tony’s enthusiasm. It was true enough, what Tony was saying. Some of the essays he read in his spare time bored him to death. They mainly consisted of ideas he had thought of in _med school._ Dreadfully tedious, in his mind, these essays supposed to be coming from ‘world class doctors.’ He decided to throw Tony a bone. “Alright then, what’s the catch? You’ll fund this project, and then what?”

“Well of course, it’s _my_ money, so you’d be consistently overseen by advisors of mine, or if you’re lucky, me in the flesh. Just so we can track progress and make reports good enough for the big guy.”

“Aren’t _you_ the big guy?” Stephen decided to ignore the ‘lucky’ comment.

“Technically yeah, but the finance guys still nag me at least once a month when I charge the cost of a Lambo to a company card,” Tony replied.

Stephen smiled at that, slightly resigned, and held out his hand. “Alright then, Tony, I look forward to working with you.”

Tony took Stephen’s hand, grinning. “Oh Stephen, the pleasure’s all mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals!
> 
> We've got our first discussion between Stephen and Tony, what do we think about that?
> 
> I love comments and kudos, obviously. If you care to, tell me what you think of this chapter (or the fic in general) so far!
> 
> Thanks so much for reading. Love you lots. Bye! 💛
> 
> [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)


	5. Talk

Tony went back to the penthouse positively giddy after the consultation with Stephen. It had gone even better than he expected, in his humble opinion. Ending with a handshake Tony was _sure_ Stephen had held on longer than necessary for, squeezing a little tighter. Stephen must feel the same for him then.

They had agreed to exchange emails in order to hash out the details for future meetings, by Stephen’s suggestion, which Tony also pushed to exchanging numbers. Strange seemed semi-reluctant, but that was probably just because he didn’t want to seem so eager to get closer to Tony. Of course, he agreed, to Tony’s delight.

Their next meeting was Saturday, three days from now, at around noon, unfortunately still in the hospital (not the most _romantic_ of settings, but Tony could work with it).

Oh, the way Stephen said he _looked forward_ to meeting with Tony, Tony could’ve taken him then and there. But obviously, with the two of them and a connection as strong as theirs, rushing into things wouldn’t do anyone any favours.

Tony spent the rest of the week thinking about the meeting, while inventing new things in his workshop, spending time at tedious meetings he _really_ thinks one of his assistants could have handled, and meeting up with Pepper for coffee the Friday before, consecutively.

While waiting for Pepper in his kitchen in the penthouse (she was probably busy handling some mess that Tony accidentally caused by living free, aka not doing _everything_ he was told), he switched on the coffee machine and scrolled through the photos of Stephen on his phone, saving whatever ones from _Christine’s_ profile he found the most beautiful.

Of course, any photo of Stephen was great that she posted. Tony just had to take the extra step of cropping her out. Really disrupts the mood of courting someone when there’s a third wheel in place.

The sound of the elevator doors opening disrupted Tony’s musing, and Pepper came through, not even the slightest bit disheveled despite her probably working since 6 that morning.

The two of them could have met in a normal restaurant, or coffee shop, but Tony didn’t want to bother with the possible press interrupting them, spreading rumours they were dating again, anything that could disrupt Stephen’s view of him and his intentions.

“Hey Pep!” Tony walked toward her to take her handbag and coat off. Let no one say he was no gentleman.

“Hi Tony,” she responded tiredly. She took a seat at one of the stools at the kitchen counter, Tony already pouring her a mug.

“Long day?” he asked, already knowing the answer but understanding she probably needed to vent.

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “You have no idea. I sometimes understand your point on the corporate drones that are a part of this company! They’re just… so _political_ sometimes, it’s so frustrating trying to get anything done!”

“Luckily you have the patience of a saint,” Tony said encouragingly. “Not to mention an iron will, the ability to out-stubborn the best of them, the smarts of a—”

“—I’m going to stop you right there,” Pepper interrupted. “What’s with the buttering me up? You in a good mood or you need a favour?”

“Hey! What if I just love you? And am here for you,” Tony answered in earnest, holding one of her hands to emphasize the latter point.

Pepper laughed at that, warning him. “Tony, you know just as well as I do that this can only ever be platonic.”

“And the love I feel for you is absolutely that. Platonic as anything. However! What if I don’t feel the same about someone else…?” Tony teased.

Pepper leaned forward, intrigued. “Oh yeah? What’s their name?”

Tony sighed dreamily. “Stephen.”

“Does this Stephen have a last name?”

“Strange.”

“What’s strange?”

“His last name.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“No, it’s literally Strange. Stephen Vincent Strange.”

Pepper smiled then, immediately searching him up on her phone, as Tony knew she would. While looking at whatever photos there were of him, she asked “how long has it been that you’ve known each other?”

“A week-ish? I met him the Friday before last.”

“Already in love? A bit quick to declare something like that, no?”

Tony groaned in exasperation. "No, he's different. Smart and snarky, and aren’t you seeing photos of him?! _Handsome_ too.”

Pepper hummed in agreement, although sounding slightly skeptical about Tony being in love regardless. “Alright, just make sure he’s not an axe-murderer-slash-gold-digger or something, I’ve had to deal with enough of those types and you.”

Tony smiled lop-sidedly. “Nah, he’s an outspoken pacifist and rich enough neurosurgeon.”

Pepper glanced up from her phone, raising an eyebrow. “Did your research?”

“Hey, I was just making sure he wasn’t… what did you say? An ‘axe-murderer-slash-gold-digger.’ I was being responsible!” Tony was lying about that of course. He was sure even if Stephen was one, Tony’d gladly let Stephen murder him, then take all his money. A bit extreme sure, but is there nothing you wouldn’t do for love?

Pepper snorted, looking back at her phone. “For once… yeah his details check out. Pretty cute, like you said. Unfortunately, looks like he has a girlfriend,” she emphasized by holding her phone out to Tony, displaying a photo of Stephen and Christine at some concert, wearing matching shirts.

Tony’s mood darkened at the reminder. “I know…” he trailed off, tracing patterns on the counter with alternating fingers. “Not all relationships last though! Worst-case scenario, me and Stephen just become really good friends. Him still dating Christine and whatnot.” Tony’d probably die if that ended up being the case, but he wasn’t about to tell Pepper that.

Pepper had that skeptical look again, so Tony thought it best to shift the conversation away from Stephen, for at least a little while. He (not so naturally) brought up another subject. “So… how’s your love-life then? If mine is so _unfortunate._ ” He mock-pouted to add effect, which seemed to do the trick, Pepper startled into a laugh.

“Well, if you should know, there’s this guy I met at the coffee shop—”

“—The coffee shop?” How cliché,” Tony jested, encouraging Pepper to continue.

“I was getting _your_ coffee, be grateful,” she shot back. “But yeah, that one on seventh street…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Thanks for reading, hope you're doing well.
> 
> I think we were all Pepper this chapter... Tony's a bit too excited about Stephen, reading into things that literally shouldn't be read into.
> 
> I'm having so much fun writing this fic, I've already gotten the next two chapters written and planning more. I hope you guys are having as much fun reading it.
> 
> Stay safe, wash your hands. Um... Live Mas. (means 'live more', and is the second slogan Taco Bell had... before that it was Yo Quiero Taco Bell (I Want Taco Bell)... so... I've actually never had Taco Bell but you get it.) 💛
> 
> [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)


	6. Introductions

The day of Tony’s first ‘check-up’ on Stephen, the former woke up bright and early, despite having a terrible sleep out of pure anticipation for being able to see Stephen again.

He headed over to the kitchen, where JARVIS had already turned on the coffee machine, so Tony could have a fresh mug right away. Not wishing to keep the nauseous feeling for the duration of the day in his excitement, he also chose to nibble on some dry toast, before heading back to his room to get dressed.

In his huge walk-in closet, Tony skimmed over several dress shirts, deciding to wear a silky deep purple one with black dress pants and a sleek black watch. There was no going too far in trying to impress the person of your dreams after all. He brushed his teeth, washed his face, tidied his hair.

Happy was already at the car, having been informed as soon as the meeting was set by Tony, so there’d be no setbacks. Tony absent-mindedly scrolled through his phone on the way to the hospital.

In the elevators up, Tony was surrounded by several other doctors. He wondered if any of them knew Stephen. Finally they made it to his floor where Stephen first said the research would be further looked into, and preliminary experiments would begin.

Tony stepped out, and saw the taller man hunched over some counter, looking at some documents with apparently great frustration. He walked over.

“Hey doc,” Tony began, trying to sound calming.

Stephen glanced over, apparently on reflex rather than recognizing the sound of Tony’s voice. Stephen did do a double take once realizing who spoke to him. Those blue-green eyes spoke multitudes.

“Mr. Stark.”

“What did we say about the ‘Mr. Stark?’”

Stephen smiled at that, remembering their past conversation. Tony was determined to earn that smile over and over. “Sorry, Tony. I was just looking over some previous trials from decades ago, and chemical compositions of medically-induced comas, and—”

“—Hey, relax! I just got here doc.”

Stephen raised an eyebrow at that. “Aren’t you here to check on how progress is being made?”

Tony shrugged. “Well, yes, but also, we have an hour. We can afford to talk about other things. Maybe get you to loosen up a little.”

Stephen squinted, chewing on the end of his pen, observing Tony. “Alright, have a seat at the conference table. I’ll introduce you to the other members of this project.”

“Other members?” Tony questioned as he took a seat at the right of the head of the table, seeing Stephen wave over some people while standing in the doorway.

“Well, yes, of course. It would be lying if I were to say the research in that paper was entirely mine. Rest assured, they are just as qualified as me, and of course, if you want me to ‘loosen up,’ more people on the team couldn’t hurt.”

Tony had a feeling Stephen was lying about that second bit. If surgeons were stars, Stephen would be the sun. He excelled like no other. But sure, research was shared, whatever.

Just then, several other doctors headed into the room, taking seats beside Tony and Stephen, Stephen at the head of the table. Still in charge then, even without explicit saying so.

“Everyone, this is Tony Stark, the man responsible for the funding for this project and our research. Tony, meet the team.” Stephen began, then gestured to the doctor on Tony’s left. “Tony, this is Dr. Nicodemus West.”

Tony shook hands with him, pretending as if he knew nothing of Nick.

Stephen then gestured to the doctor in the middle. “This is Dr. Garrison, our primary researcher.” Tony said hello accordingly, being sure to remember the name for later research.

“And finally, Dr. Christine Palmer, my second for this project.” _Christine._ She extended a hand out to shake Tony’s, saying “hello Mr. Stark, it's so nice to meet you,” accompanied by a warm smile. And Tony, in his envy took a beat too long to return the gesture.

Stephen had a calculating gaze, seeing Tony’s temporary slip-up. Probably wondering why Tony would even begin to dislike someone he’s apparently never met or heard of. In an attempt to smooth over the situation, Tony spoke up, smiling just enough to not be seen as fake. “It’s so nice to meet you Dr. Palmer.”

Apparently that seemed like enough, and Stephen moved on. “So, we’ve been catching up on research regarding coma patients over the past couple of weeks. I’m not sure how much you’ve read up on for this, but if you like, one of our people can fill you in on the basics, though I’m sure you can handle more on your own regardless. You’re called a genius for a reason, right?” Stephen had a wry smile by that point.

“Yeah, I’ve read up on whatever there is to read. I’m covered. Why don’t you tell me about the specifics of what we’re going for then? You’d have several approaches aimed toward the big picture, correct?”

“Of course. I’ll turn it over to Christine for now, she’s the best person for explaining that part of the project.”

Christine nodded in affirmation, and began speaking. Tony pretended to listen intently, and after further conversations with the other doctors, the hour flew by fast enough. Tony’d rather just listen to Stephen speak, he trusted the doctor enough not to squander his funding for personal gain, but appearances and whatnot.

When the meeting drew to a close, Dr. West and and Dr. Garrison left promptly, followed by Christine and finally Stephen who held the door open for Tony to leave as well. _A gentleman,_ Tony thought pleasantly.

Stephen walked him to the elevator, on the way there saying “thank you, once again Tony, for funding this research. It could change so many lives, give so much hope.”

Tony mirrored Stephen’s bright smile. “Of course doc. Y’know, you could always thank me by treating me to dinner. Least you could do.”

Stephen laughed dryly at that as they waited for the elevator. “Who’s the billionaire here? But yeah, if you want to have dinner, we’ll schedule something with the team.” He paused. “Your ride. I’ll see you in a few weeks for the next meeting.”

Tony stepped into the elevator. “Sounds like a plan Stephie.”

Just as the elevator doors closed, Tony saw Stephen walk over to Christine, their conversation already seeming jovial and comforting despite it just starting. A wave of jealousy spread over Tony on the ride down, and on the way back to the tower. Happy was smart enough not to mention anything.

Tony’d still have to do something about Christine then. The sour mood was unbearable enough, and he knew Stephen deserved more, deserved him. And vice-versa.

He walked over to his computer, and typed _Christine Palmer._ And the research binge began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> So, we've got that first *official* meeting with Tony and the team.
> 
> Jealousy forking sucks, but what are you gonna do when dealing with a slightly insane billionaire (maybe more than slightly).
> 
> I hope to see y'all next week for chapter 7! Thank so much for reading, leaving kudos and comments.
> 
> Sayonara folks. 💛


	7. Christine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: threats (some of death, some of career ending) (typical entitled billionaire-type ish, y'know)

About 3 months into new research funded by Tony, Stephen and Tony had met a multitude of times, the ‘check-ups’ slowly but surely becoming more frequent, less business-oriented, just as he had planned it. Stephen was now newly comfortable asking Tony how he was, less out of obligation and more out of friendly curiosity.

After the first month, the team got together for dinner, Tony making sure to sit next to Stephen, although Christine effortlessly claimed the other spot beside Stephen. It was a tense-enough night, but conversation turned lively enough if Tony used his learned skills of ignoring those who displeased him.

There had never been a dinner between just Tony and Stephen yet, which Tony was planning on changing as soon as possible. From his research on Christine, there was unfortunately not much he could blackmail her on. The worst thing on her record was getting arrested at some protest for animal rights. Of course she’s a saint.

Which left Tony with few options on getting rid of her. Perhaps he could influence heads of other hospitals to take her on, give her a promotion of some sort. The _lovely_ couple wouldn’t be able to handle the long distance, and therefore hours without seeing each other, and of course, why would she inhibit her own career advancements for what they have? Stephen and her aren’t even married, for goodness’ sake!

With his first plan in mind, Tony set to work, calling the heads of out-of-state hospitals, his voice oozing charm, and beaming in his recommendation they hire this one, brilliant doctor. He ensured they wouldn’t mention his own name when interviewing Christine, as a safety from suspicion.

…

Which is why Tony was disappointed to still see her and Stephen chatting amicably a month later. He figured, give it time, one day he’ll see Stephen alone and make his move then. Upon seeing them, Tony noticed Stephen’s warm welcoming smile, a new constant with his visits. He also noticed, however, Christine not even trying to act as her normal friendly self seeing him.

Of course, Tony didn’t make it easy for her in the time they’d known each other. But he could think of no such thing that would have pushed her over the edge in the past few months that she wouldn’t even pretend to like seeing him.

Oblivious to Christine’s dark look, Stephen spoke up first. “Hey, Tony.” He turned around for two seconds and turned back, this time with a file in hand. “Summary of progress for the last week.”

Tony had suggested rather than repetitive conversations, the team of doctors simply type up their individual progress, and leave the remainder of the hour for them to get actual work done, rather than entertain him and play catch-up later.

“Thanks so much doc.”

Suddenly Christine spoke up, looking to Stephen. “Shoot, I forgot coffee for the three of us. Stephen, would you get it this time? I’m just gonna go through the summary with Tony. Go to the café on the main floor, the one on this one’s weak.”

Stephen seemed slightly bemused by her request, seeing as Christine was always so responsible in prepping for any day of work, including getting something as simple as drinks for the meeting. Tony on the other hand was even more puzzled, but adding on slightly worried about what she _actually_ wanted to talk about. Stephen nodded to her, saying “alright. Black for the three of us?”

Tony was about to suggest coffee wasn’t necessary, but Christine cut him off. “That works.”

The taller man left without another word, leaving Tony and Christine facing off each other. She spoke up. “How about we talk in the conference room?”

Tony nodded, then followed her lead. As she shut the door behind her, the tension in her expression only became more noticeable, as if hiding it was no longer necessary ( _for Stephen?_ ).

They sat down across from each other, Tony leaning back contrasting to Christine’s leaning forward, propping her elbows on the table and leaning her chin in her hands.

“So… Tony.”

He decided to play dumb, unwilling to give any information about anything until he was sure of what Christine’s intentions were. “Yes?”

“Why are you trying to get rid of me?”

Damn, straight to the point then. “Where on earth would you get that idea?”

Christine was undeterred. Lightly, she answered “friend of a friend. And of course, I’m not stupid. Narrowed down possibilities, observation. Answer the question.”

Tony was slightly annoyed by her questioning him, despite her being on the right track. And also whatever chief surgeon he contacted that revealed his name and concerns to her. Tony’d have to track them down later. “Well, if you’re so smart, shouldn’t you know?”

She seemed shocked by Tony admitting his actions so easily. “I’d prefer to hear it from the horse’s mouth.”

“Think about it then.”

Her frustration amplified, but seeing Tony wasn’t going to divulge more than she had already figured out, she sat back, tapping her fingers on the table in some unknown rhythm. Maybe morse code.

He could see her thinking, staring hard at him as she pieced together what his intentions were, could see the moment her eyes sparked with realization. She whispered. “Stephen.”

“Bingo.”

“What do you want with him?”

“What do you think I want with him?”

“Why are you so goddamn cryptic?!”

“Can’t you tell? I’m _stalling._ ” Tony replied mockingly.

Christine took a breath. She worked her thoughts out loud. “So let’s say I take one of my several promotions I’ve suddenly been offered, with no apparent ‘higher power’ having influence in any of those decisions. Just random rewards for my work.”

She glared at Tony, continuing. “Stephen and I probably couldn’t handle the long distance relationship, being busy enough as we are, and you and him are _still here._ Without me. And clichéd, broken hearted, whatever, Stephen sleeps with you. All you want is a quick lay? Not getting enough from the faceless masses?” She sneered.

 _How could she think that?!_ Tony thought incredulously. He was _in love _with Stephen. Did she think Tony some cheap home-wrecker? Desperate to break relationships for quick sex? He could no longer tamp down his temper and snapped, standing up to look down on her.__

__“I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM!”_ _

__Christine flinched at Tony’s change in tone, but seemed pleased he was no longer playing the indifferent suspect. “Is that so?”_ _

__“And yes, I convinced out-of-state hospitals to offer you promotions, to break up you and Stephen! He and I, we could do _so much._ What have you achieved together?! You’re just holding him back from greatness.”_ _

__“I am not holding him back from greatness, I am holding him back from you!” Christine shouted. “Do you think yourself the equivalent of that? That only _you_ matter? You selfish, power-hungry coward!”_ _

__Tony took a breath. Spoke quietly then. “Dr. Palmer. You have two options. The first is easy. Take one of the promotions. Break it off with Stephen. Stay out of his life. And don’t speak a word of my interference. Let us move on without you.”_ _

__Christine recoiled at that, but was rightfully afraid to hear the second option, Tony still with the eerily calm demeanour._ _

__“Your second may not be as desired. It’s obvious how much power I have. And how much I love Stephen. And if I can’t have him, he’s as good as dead to me. Your lack of cooperation would have caused his unfortunate demise. And of course, your killing a man would go against everything you believe in as a doctor. Demotions or even coerced resignations would follow in your path. Would you have that?”_ _

__Tony continued. “And of course, telling him of these… intentions of mine would not be the most practical idea of yours, or should I remind you of my influence, of my…” he paused. “…knowledge of his whereabouts, information he comes across, heck, everything he sees, I see.”_ _

__Christine had visibly blanched, the beginning of tears forming in terrified eyes. At that point, the man of the hour walked in, holding a tray with three coffees._ _

__“Sorry guys, the line was a nightmare. Tony, I’m so sorry for taking up your hour for consultation with that.” Stephen shook his slightly disheveled hair out of his eyes, setting the tray down on the table and taking a seat between the two, unaware of the tension._ _

__His getting settled gave Christine just enough time to smooth over her expression, since telling Tony’s plan right then and there may not have been the best plan of action. She was still reeling herself._ _

__“So Stephen,” Tony’s voice had completely changed, warm and sauve accompanied by an easy smile, handing the man a coffee. Tony glanced over at Christine, winking as he handed her another coffee. Her anger was bursting at the seams. “Tell me what you’ve been up to this week.”_ _

__Stephen took a sip. “Well, Christine and I were just talking about this one experiment before you arrived…”_ _

__Stephen kept talking. Christine was silent, nodding encouragingly despite her inner turmoil. Tony listened, eager and so close to achieving what he desired most in this forsaken world._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> Lowkey, I think Christine won that argument, and Tony realized that too and was like "but wait! I have m o n e y." And somehow that was a trump card. (That was such a fun conversation to write, not going to lie).
> 
> Um, tell me if I'm missing any trigger warnings on any of the chapters, I'm always game for editing mistakes of mine.
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and comments! Wash your hands. 💛
> 
> [Tumblr](chocopiggy.tumblr.com)   
>  [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)


	8. Apprehension

Christine paced her office, thinking of the _possibilities_ of her decision. If she stayed, she put herself and Stephen in danger from that… psychopath! Was it too late to tell Stephen what Tony said? Would Stephen believe her? If she took the transfer, would that guarantee anyone’s safety? What if Tony decided to get rid of her permanently, as some kind of failsafe?

She’d have to give it time, Christine supposed. Maybe take the transfer, see how things go, wait a while for the knife in her back. If it turned out okay, she could warn Stephen then. Tony cared about the man after all. In his own sick, twisted way. But Tony was pretty adamant on Stephen’s safety, as long as a romantic relationship with him was part of the deal.

Oh god. How could she even begin to break up with Stephen? He was a _good_ person. They were good together. Would he forgive her when realizing the truth, however soon she could tell him? Who’d be there for him for the breakup? Estranged family, and the team is more intimidated by him than anything. Is this what Tony wanted? To isolate him? Leave him for the taking, more vulnerable than ever?

Christine felt nauseous, deciding to take her break early. As she grabbed her coat and opened the door, Stephen walked past that same hallway.

“Oh, Christine!” he paused, seeing her face. “You alright? Heading for break early?”

She nodded. “Yeah, just… gonna go out for a walk. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Do you want me to come with? I can just drop this off with the desk and meet you at the front.”

Did she want him to come with her? Would the break-up happen right then and there? Would she not be able to hold a conversation? Could he tell something was wrong already? How much could she delay this? Live in this… relative peace before Stark had his way?

“Um, it’s okay. You stay. I just need a breather.”

Stephen looked skeptical. “You sure?”

Christine smiled weakly. “Positive.” With that, she edged past him in the hallway, pulling her coat on, and didn’t look back, until getting startled by Stephen grabbing her arm.

“Hold up. Two seconds. I can tell something’s wrong. What kind of boyfriend would I be to make you go through that alone?” He said with a wry smile.

Trying not to fidget, she nodded, looking into his blue-gray eyes, so full of love and concern it hurt. _Oh Stephen, you shouldn’t have followed me. Let us be, just a little while longer._

He briskly walked off to the front desk and dropped off whatever paperwork he was holding with the assistant and grabbed his own coat. He smiled, seemingly in relief, upon seeing that she waited. How could she not?

They rode the elevator down in silence. Stephen seemed content to let her think things through before prompting her to speak. They walked out of the hospital, and for quite some time down the street on a straight path, with no real destination in mind, however keeping close enough in case they needed to be called back for some emergency.

Christine decided she should have probably broken the silence first, seeing as Stephen really wouldn’t ask her what’s wrong until she was ready. “I’ve just been thinking about my future… career-wise,” she started lamely.

Stephen hummed, encouraging her to elaborate.

“And you know of quite a few of the job offers I’ve gotten recently. If I took one… that would really help with experience and learning new things in our field, and of course I could help even more people in more ways. Of course, one of the problems with accepting a job elsewhere is that it would be out-of-state. And I don’t think we—” she paused. “I don’t think _I_ could handle a long-distance relationship.”

Stephen's jaw clenched upon realizing where she was heading with this. He stared at the ground as they walked, then stopped, moving over to the edge of the sidewalk, motioning for Christine to join him there.

He took a breath in, then exhaled. “I-I know you’re a very talented doctor Christine. And I wouldn’t want to be the one to hold you back from advancing your career. But we’ve been together for such a long time, and best friends for longer. All our friends are here. Favourite… coffee shops and… I don’t know, libraries. Are you sure taking one of those promotions would outweigh the cost of you losing your life here? In New York?”

Christine stared off into the distance, hugging her coat closer to her. “I think the new job would. People like fresh starts for a reason. Obviously building up what we have here took time. And that’s what I’d have moving out-of-state. Time. I’d be okay.”

He gestured around. “Look at all of this. I couldn’t leave it for the world. We’ve made it a home. Are you even sure which promotion you would take? You’re speaking in such… generic terms of leaving here. Leaving me. Did I do something wrong? What’s pushing you to leave?” Stephen’s voice cracked with the last question.

_Oh Stephen. I wish I could tell you. I wish I could make this okay._

Just then, Christine’s pager buzzed. She looked into Stephen’s eyes, reflecting desperation and great… sadness. She spoke. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

With that, she turned and walked briskly back to the hospital, leaving Stephen wondering what went so wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals!
> 
> Lowkey, this chapter hurt my soul, it was SO SAD (I've always had a problem with over-empathizing... a house spider dying? Will cry for it).
> 
> I'm loving the support this fic is getting, comments are always, ALWAYS appreciated.
> 
> Hope y'all are doing well. Updates are every Saturday. 💛
> 
> [Tumblr](chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)


	9. Breakup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: the f word? Yah, just profanity, Oh and maybe drinking as a coping mechanism.

Stephen’s day had just gotten from bad to worse since his and Christine’s ‘break.’ Her saying she wanted to break up to move out of state for some vague promotion had honestly thrown him for a loop. He thought back to her behaviour over the past few days. She didn’t seem to be _avoiding_ him per se, but every time she looked at him, there was some odd look of despair.

When he tried to question her about it however, she would brush it off. Act like everything’s normal. Go back to looking at him with pity when she thought Stephen couldn’t see her.

Maybe he could have tried harder. Been better. He had _no idea._ And that might have been one of the worser facts of the situation. He thought him and Christine were doing so well. Maybe reaching that point where they could move in together, officially. And she didn’t seem like the type to be afraid of commitment.

After that work day, they walked home together in tense silence, Stephen more worried than anything about what was going to happen when they got back to his apartment, which was closer to the hospital so Christine stayed over often enough. He had a feeling this would be no sleepover though. More like finalizing what seemed like the end.

His assumptions proved to be correct. When they got back, Christine made a point of heading right to their (Stephen guessed, now _his_ ) bedroom and packed whatever she had there in a small suitcase she had brought over ages ago. The whole time, they argued. Which felt like an eternity to Stephen but turned out to be less than half an hour.

Christine left in tears, however not because of what Stephen said, he didn’t think. More like frustration that she couldn’t say what she wanted to say. And when he asked what she was hiding, she seemed even more broken.

And then he was alone. And in shock. All the highs and lows of their relationship that almost lasted a _year,_ gone in a flash. And he had _no idea why. _Christine refused to let up, being impressively consistent in how vague her answers to his questions were.__

__Who did Stephen have now? No one. Acquaintances at work, who would have been on her side out of loyalty (and the assumption he didn’t care much for them anyway, which… fair enough). Christine would be moving now. Out of sight, out of mind, he supposed. He couldn’t talk to his parents, his brother. His dead sister._ _

__Maybe Tony. Ha! Stephen’s last friend was a billionaire who just so happened to notice him on one night out. May as well add every rich dude he’s aware of to a best friends list, Stephen thought cynically. Zuckerberg. Bezos. Buffett. Ortega. Stephen supposed with every comma in their bank account, a little bit more of their soul would be chipped away._ _

__While lacking the funding, Stephen certainly felt as empty as that. He lay on the floor of his penthouse, in a position so if he tilted his head, he could overlook the cityscape, made grey by heavy storm clouds and pouring rain. Was the weather like that earlier? Pathetic fallacy he supposed._ _

__What was he supposed to do now? His next shift wasn’t for another ten hours. And there was no way he could get any sleep. Ugh, and why was his face wet? Stephen wiped his cheek with the heel of his hand, hovered his arm above his head, which contrasted against the ceiling, to inspect the offending substance._ _

__Turns out there were tears. Stephen laughed dryly to himself. So disconnected from himself he was completely unaware he was crying. Groaning, he sat up. Time for some mistake then. He wanted to feel something. Instead of being sad, or empty. And he was never the type to ‘reflect.’ Why should he start now?_ _

__He stood up from the floor, dusted off his pants (more for semantics than anything, his cleaners did a good enough job with the place), and grabbed a coat before heading out to the nearest bar. He had exactly one objective: get hammered, and then hopefully find some easy lay (preferably a guy, he felt like being used, which women could never do as well in his opinion). Then shuffle into work._ _

__At Rocco’s, he sat at the bar, just wiped down and smelling vaguely of antiseptic, and ordered a scotch, swivelling around in his seat to observe the other patrons. Some he recognized. Most he didn’t. Turning around, he sipped at his drink, gazing off in the distance. Onlookers would think he was quite invested in the collection of booze lining the back wall._ _

__He ordered another drink. Then another. And kept going until the buzz made the room spin just slightly. Seeing some stranger eyeing him up from the other end of the bar (who had been for the past _hour_ ), Stephen decided to make his way over there, a little off-balance but still moving forward, making the first move himself._ _

__“Heeey there—”_ _

__Just then, Stephen felt a hand on his forearm. He turned around, looked down slightly, slurred while he spoke. “Tony? What are _youuu_ doing here? Isn’t this place for… ahem, non-bajillionaires?”_ _

__Tony seemed to look at him with pity, which was the _opposite_ of what Stephen wanted. “Hey, Stephie, maybe we should get out of here,” he said quietly._ _

__“I’d rather not. I was just talking with this fine gentleman, and the two of us were going to head off.” Stephen gestured vaguely at said-patron, who smiled easily, probably also very drunk._ _

__Tony glared at the man, causing his smile to disappear. “Steph, I can tell you’re going through something, so I don’t think that’s such a good idea. You can stay at my place if you want.”_ _

__“Can you tell that?” Stephen asked snidely. “Is it so _obvious_ I’m going through something?! Because I had no _fucking_ idea!” His voice had raised significantly by this point._ _

__“There’s no need to yell, Stephen.” Tony took a breath. “I’m here for you, come on.” He put an arm around the taller man’s shoulders._ _

__Apparently this was enough. Stephen put an arm around Tony’s waist, and tucked his face into Tony’s neck, immediately bursting into tears. His words were quite muffled by that point, the doctor continuing to sob as Tony led him out of the bar and into his limousine, where Happy was already in the driver’s seat._ _

__“It’s just not fair, Tony! She-she just left! Almost a _year_ with her, gone!” Stephen could barely speak by this point, hysterically clinging onto Tony in the back seat. They didn’t bother with seatbelts, so Stephen was stretched out along the leather leaning on the billionaire._ _

__Tony tried calming the doctor, running a hand through the man’s hair and whispering reassurances. “It’s going to be okay, trust me. You deserve better. I’m here for you.”_ _

__By the time they reached the tower, Stephen had quieted down, but wasn’t quite asleep yet. Still leaning on Tony, they got out of the car, slowly making their way to the penthouse. When it was clear it would take _ages_ for Stephen to walk, Tony huffed and picked the man up bridal style. In his exhaustion, Stephen didn’t protest much._ _

__Tony set the man down in the guest room, making sure to take off his shoes and tie, already having Happy hang up the man’s coat in the main closet. Tony couldn’t resist kissing the nearly-asleep man’s forehead before leaving the room, smiling when Stephen hummed in response._ _

__Once in his living room, Tony allowed himself to grin. Looks like Christine was finally out of the picture. He’d have to monitor her movements for a while, but so far, everything was going according to plan. He called the hospital, telling them Stephen probably wouldn’t be available for his next scheduled shift, and asked them, if they could be so kind, to delay his coming in for a few more hours._ _

__They of course obliged. The type of funding Tony supplied allowed him to do pretty much anything._ _

__All that was left for him now was wait for Stephen to wake up, so Tony could take care of him the way he’s been dreaming of doing for ages._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> So I was checking my stats, and did you know 16 PEOPLE are subscribed to this story?! That's incredible. Just knowing that y'all want to be informed of my updates is so cool.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are appreciated.
> 
> Actual story commentary, um, Christine's gone. :( And Tony's in. And Stephen's too sad for my liking. (this next part, just assume it's in a really cheesy voice): what will happen next time? Stay tuned to find out!
> 
> Also! I have no idea why my tumblr link no longer works?! It's chocopiggy.tumblr.com. My instagram link works. I'll figure it out because I've done it before, I can do it again! I took gr. 10 computer science and got 79, anything is possible LOL.
> 
> Love you, bye! 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)   
>  [Tumblr](chocopiggy.tumblr.com)


	10. Implore

Stephen woke up with a brackish taste in his mouth, lying in an unfamiliar bed. He was expecting both, so the shock didn’t come from either of those factors. Instead, it was seeing the layout of the room, clean and impersonal, with windows showcasing an incredible view of New York.

It didn’t seem like he was brought to some hotel either. No luggage, or hotel-room looking door in sight. Plus he was still dressed. Which wasn’t usually how his one-night stands ended unless he headed back to his own penthouse right after.

There were two white pills and a glass of water on the bedside table, probably painkillers or something for his hangover. Deciding it might not be the safest move to take whatever label-less drugs were left for him by some stranger he’s yet to remember the face of, Stephen pushed himself into a sitting position with a groan and chose to just sip at the water before attempting standing. _And getting the hell out of wherever he was._

He saw his tie draped over a plush seat in the corner, his shoes neatly placed on the floor beside them. Putting the tie in his pocket and slipping on his shoes, he opened the door and headed in the general direction of where he thought the front door would be. What made it an even _more_ unusual situation was the fact that he seemed to be in some grand apartment, with hallways that curved and high ceilings.

Stephen halted once he reached what looked like a living room, with the one and only Tony Stark reading something on a tablet while lounging on the couch. The latter looked up, hearing footsteps. “Morning Stephie. How’re you feeling?”

Stephen blinked. Suddenly all events of the previous night caught up with him. Him drinking like there was no tomorrow, then about to head home with some random stranger, Tony swooping in, Stephen yelling at him, and finally being taken to what he could now conclude was the Stark Tower. Humiliated by his behaviour in front of someone who was supposed to be a business associate, Stephen pulled himself together as best as he could.

“I’m doing alright, Tony. Uh, I’m so sorry for last night. I was incredibly unprofessional. I’ll see you for our next consult.”

With that, Stephen darted for the elevator he spotted in the corner of his eye. Just before pushing the button to head down, however, he heard Tony shuffling behind him, presumably getting off the couch. “Hey, Stephen, what’s the rush? It’s no problem having you here, we can talk this out if you want.” Tony had lightly gripped Stephen’s forearm.

“Um, it’s alright, I have to be at the hospital in an hour for my next shift regardless. Thanks for letting me stay in your guest room.” Stephen refused to make eye contact.

“I called the hospital about that actually, so you don’t have to go in until noon. So breakfast?” Tony sounded hopeful.

Stephen was confused, however. Called the hospital to move his shift? “What? Why’d you do that?”

Tony looked at the taller man with a sympathetic smile. “I saw you last night, Stephie. You were a mess. And I think compounding work on top of that might cause you to keel over.”

Stephen took a deep breath. “Actually, working might be the one thing that could help right now. And I’m sorry I got you involved in my personal affairs, but it’s really none of your business how I deal with that from this point on.” He pushed the ‘down’ button.

“But isn’t it?”

Hearing this, Stephen shot a glare at Tony. “How is my life _your_ business?! We barely know each other!”

“That’s exactly right. I don’t know how you handle your problems, other than work apparently. What I do understand is I’m funding this very expensive research, being conducted by a team led by _you._ And I’d rather the project not go under because you can’t handle your personal affairs.”

“Trust me, Tony, I won’t let this affect the job.”

“Prove it then. Talk me through what you’re going through. We can eat if you want. And I can see if you’re still up for leading the team.”

The elevator dinged, the doors sliding open. Stephen ran a hand through his hair. “Bit unprofessional, isn’t this? You _insist_ on getting involved in this… _mess,_ and if I don’t indulge you, you’d kick me off the team or cancel the project, or some bullshit.”  
The elevator doors closed, leaving Tony and Stephen standing eye to eye still in front of the doors.

“I’d like to think we’ve ventured past some point of _pure_ professionalism, no Stephie?”

Stephen scoffed. “Of course you’d _like_ to think that.”

Tony opted to ignore that last comment. “And no, I wouldn’t dismiss you from the team, or stop funding for the project. I’d just like to reassure myself more than anything that the talents and efforts going into this won’t be going to waste.”

“They _wouldn’t_ be, Tony! I-I need to get to work.” Stephen pushed the elevator button once more.

“Okay fine! I do think you’d do fine work-wise. I just know you’re a business-type first and a friend-type second, so I just wanted to use the project as an excuse to get closer to you. But in all honesty, I just want to know how you’re doing.”

Stephen gaped at Tony’s sudden honesty. Swallowing, he spoke quietly then. “I told you, I’m fine.” He stepped into the elevator then, as the doors opened, not wanting to delay his exit any longer. Tony stepped in after him.

“But I don’t think you are. Last night, you seemed _really_ out of it. And despite all your denial and avoidance now, you really seemed to need a friend. And I don’t think the need for that just goes away with a decent night’s sleep.”

Stephen blushed at that, probably embarrassed his lowered inhibitions revealed the touchier side of him. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll go for a coffee with you right now, on me, if you never mention last night to me or anyone else ever again.”

Tony mulled over the proposition. Clearly the doctor was unwilling to go any further than that for the time being. Would it do anyone any good to let Stephen repress everything for the time being? How much pushing could he get away with before Stephen snapped?

“Fine that works, but I’m buying, or else what’s the point in going out with a billionaire?” Tony responded jokingly.

“This isn’t a date, Stark,” Stephen deadpanned.

“Of course not, you just had a huge breakup. What do you take me for?!”

Together, both men exited the tower, heading in the direction of the nearest coffee shop, moving on to more lighthearted bickering and endless comebacks. One slightly defeated but at least distracted, and the other hopelessly in love and positively delighted with how things were progressing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> Hmm, they've reached some mutual friend-type nonsense Tony's being working a little too hard for. And Stephen has no idea what's happening.
> 
> Love, love, love the support this series is getting. I'm done writing the next 6 chapters, if you can believe that. Gets super intense, and I'm so excited for being able to upload them in the next month. Kudos and comments make my day (what am I saying, I'd gush about a comment I received months before)! 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)   
>  [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	11. Crush

It had been a few months since Christine had left Stephen, six months, two weeks to be precise. And that time was not nearly as rough as the latter expected it to be. All thanks to one person, whom Stephen thought could never act as anything more than a slightly inappropriate business partner.

Tony had been more than optimal in helping Stephen move on from Christine, surprisingly without jumping the doctor as soon as the chance arisen. Of course, flirting was still a substantial part of their conversations, which Stephen found himself thankful for, establishing some level of normalcy after his world essentially flipped upside down so suddenly.

Over time, Stephen found himself flirting back, less with the intention of moving their friendship past what it was, but more confident and secure in his own person. He went over to the tower quite often, spending nights with Tony platonic in nature, occasionally ending with him falling asleep in the guest room had he drunk too much to even make it out of the building. Tony had even come over to Stephen’s penthouse a few times, usually if their scheduled meetings in-hospital ended late in the evening.

The project that had started all this had been stalled when Christine took a job offer in another state, since she was such a crucial part of research and leading the team. With Stephen’s own persistence however, and the help of other doctors who stepped up to the occasion, it had picked up again.

And now, in the present moment, Stephen couldn’t help but think of all Tony did for him, despite certain backlash stemming from Stephen’s insecurities and insistence they remain professional.

The doctor adjusted his bowtie in the mirror in his penthouse, checking his watch for the umpteenth time. Without meaning to, he ended up choosing the one Christine gave him, with the engraving on the back. Deciding it wasn’t actually the most appropriate for tonight’s occasion, he switched it out for another from his collection, delicately placing it on one of the spinning spots in the drawer.

Not that tonight was spectacularly special, but Tony did invite him as a plus one to a charity gala, and while it wasn’t a date (not explicitly, anyway, leaving Stephen wondering if he wanted it to be one), it would still seem a bit odd to wear an ex’s gift while going out with someone else.

Just as Stephen decided he’d dolled up the most he could without seeming pretentious (well, _exceedingly_ pretentious), his phone rang from where he’d left it on the kitchen counter. He walked over to it and picked up, knowing already who it’d be without checking the call display.“Hey Tony.”

“Hey Stephie. You ready?”

“Yeah. You in front?”

“Already waiting for you sweetheart.”

Blushing, Stephen hung up, pocketing his phone in his coat pocket along with his wallet and keys. Was he reading into the flirting too much? How many people has Tony called _sweetheart_ anyways?

In the elevator, he checked his hair in the mirror once more. He strolled out into the lobby and out the glistening revolving front doors, to in fact see Tony leaning against a beautiful midnight blue Aston Martin, one of the newer models. Stephen smirked knowing buying that car was probably pocket change to the billionaire.

Nodding to it, he prompted “beautiful ride.”

Tony grinned, opening the passenger door for Stephen. “Not as beautiful as you look tonight. We should get you out of your scrubs more often.”

Stephen scoffed as he got in, waiting for Tony to run around to the driver’s seat. “If we allowed that, you wouldn’t be picking me up from a place as nice as this one.”

Tony mock pouted, starting the engine and pulling out of the building’s front driveway. “I suppose. Guess I’ll settle for the rare moments.”

Stephen looked pointedly at Tony, who in turn was focusing on the road (something Stephen partook in a little less than he should have). “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

“You think so? This was a little rushed, I got distracted in the lab.”

“I’m not surprised.” Stephen deadpanned. “What’d you get distracted with?”

“Well I was actually with Peter, figured I could get some time in with him before the gala tonight. I needed his… goodness to balance out the schmoozers we’ll inevitably meet.”

Stephen had met Peter quite a few times in the past six months, knowing him as a polite but insatiably enthusiastic high schooler who Tony just happened to take under his wing in an official mentor/mentee relationship (though upon further observation, seemed more to Stephen like a father/son type of thing).

Peter had taken to Stephen _very well,_ though the doctor couldn’t really see the kid treating anyone coldly unless they were the definition of evil, and even then, he was willing to bet Peter would give them the benefit of the doubt.

“Oh yeah? How’s he doing?”

Tony smiled, one of those genuine ones Stephen learned to lo-like. A lot. “He’s doing well. Being a bit chaotic as usual, but he’s still so damn _good._ ”

“Like father, like son.”

Tony sighed. “How many times must I tell you, we’re not actually related.”

“I’m not convinced. And even if there was no biological component, you act like a family without that. You’re a totally natural father-figure.”

Tony blinked, then warmed up. Eyes still on the road, he smiled. “You really think so?”

Stephen found Tony’s surprise endearing. “Definitely. You’d be a great one to any kids you have in the future. Of course if you’d want that.”

Tony seemed to ponder that. “Would you want kids?”

Stephen’s nose scrunched up playfully, him moving to gaze out the passenger window. “No way. I’m the opposite of dad material.”

“Uh I beg to differ. You know Peter asks after you when you’re not around?”

Stephen lifted an eyebrow suspiciously. “No he doesn’t.”

“Ah yes he does. The number of times I’ve had to explain the hectic life of a neurosurgeon.”

Stephen shrugged. “I don’t think that proves much. Peter’s an angel.”

“That he is. But he likes you a lot. Gets _really_ concerned when I tell him you’ve been working fifty hours straight.”

“Ahem, you do the same thing. And also, exactly! What kind of parent could I be working all the time? Sounds very _absentee_ to me.”

“You seem to take care of me just fine,” Tony smirked. “Always calling me a man-child and then making sure I sleep or eat or whatever mundane nonsense you insist is healthy. Quite maternal of you, if anything.”

“You’re still grown.”

“And you still care.”

Stephen noticed the gala’s entrance, it being hosted in an old eccentric building and decorated with various ribbons and whatnot. Not to mention lights originating from both paparazzi cameras and dancing lights cast outside windows.

“Looks like we’re here,” he said, changing the subject.

Tony seemed to catch on Stephen no longer wanted to talk about being a dad in any foreseeable future. Acting exasperated by the party already, he sighed. “Looks like we are.”

Tony had his door opened by the valet, and after getting out, ran around to open the door for Stephen, despite the fact that there were other people to do it. Stephen took the offered hand and stepped out of the vehicle, immediately composing himself for the cameras, aware of the sudden change in energy upon seeing Tony, one of the more _important_ individuals there.

Making their way through the front doors after crossing the long stretch of carpet leading up, both men let their faces relax from the unbelievably false smiles they had to paste on. Tony gestured over to the bar. “Drinks first? Then we’ll find our table?”

Stephen nodded, leading them in the bar’s direction. “Trying to get me drunk Stark?”

“You know it babe. Two… old fashioneds. Thanks.”

Making their way to their table (table number three, to Tony’s dismay, _‘I wanted table one, we’re not third place people’_ ), they nursed their drinks. Some time later, presentations began on stage, the powerpoint seeming excessively dull in the glamour of the hall, but managed to keep Stephen’s attention regardless, ever eager to learn. Tony’s attention was mainly held by him admiring his date, in contrast.

Dinner came after the presentations, and then dancing and milling around with the higher-ups always aiming to keep other parties in their good graces. Tony was asked to dance a multitude of times, presuming him and Stephen weren’t technically together, so the former was fair game. Tony good-naturedly declined, despite Stephen insisting it would be alright if he did go off to dance with someone.

“Trying to get rid of me doc?”

Stephen smiled into his glass. “Not at all. I just wouldn’t want to hold you back from any potential… prospects.”

Tony glared. “We came together, we’re gonna stick together through this.”

“A bit too committed, aren’t we?”

“I think you’re not committed enough. Would you ditch me if someone asked you to dance?”

Stephen scoffed. “No one’s doing that. Different case.”

“Fine then. Dance with me Stephen.” Tony stood up, holding out a hand.

Stephen looked on at Tony’s hand, calloused fingers and promising safety, with a little challenge. Setting his glass down, Stephen took the offer and stood up, and they made their way to the floor, where a waltz had begun to play, quite similar to the one playing when the two of them first met.

Tony seemed well-versed in this type of movement, leading Stephen who was a little less practiced. The two of them moved rather gracefully, save for the rare time the doctor stumbled and the engineer was quick to correct him.

Stephen couldn’t help but try to avoid eye contact, choosing to check his own feet, or examine Tony’s jaw, or gaze off at some other couple dancing nearby. He was afraid of what he’d see in the shorter man’s eyes, if it’d be affection or indifference or intensity. Stephen was afraid to know how he, himself, would react to any of those Looks. If he’d swoop in and steal a kiss or take off running.

Just then, the song ended, and Stephen took a step back, still holding Tony’s elbows in either hand, with the other holding his in turn. Tony spoke first. “Well, you make one heck of a dance partner.”

He smiled at the familiar Disney movie reference, blushing. Looking at Tony for the first time since they started dancing, he became entranced at the sheer adoration reflected in hazel eyes.

The moment ended too soon, Stephen thought, walking home alone. They were interrupted by another woman, Stephen didn’t bother learning her name, who insisted Tony dance with her, standing among the other dancers. Tony was about to brush her off, but Stephen said it was fine, he was going to go get a drink anyways. With that, Stephen parted from the two of them and headed for the bar.

Looking back at Tony dancing with the woman, Stephen thought of how nice they looked together. How he probably couldn’t measure up. When he suddenly found it difficult to swallow, Stephen decided that would be the best time to take his leave. He got his coat from the coat check at the front, and just before exiting, sent a text saying he had to catch up on some work at the hospital, so Tony wouldn’t think him a _complete_ dick for leaving without a word. Just a little bit.

Hugging himself in order to preserve heat against the brisk late night wind, Stephen sniffed. He missed Christine. He wished he could understand what happened with her. But Tony was so good. So warm after the breakup. And Stephen couldn’t help but think of the possibilities of him and Tony, _together,_ just before entering his apartment building, not hearing the skidding tires of a familiar sports car behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> Was that mutual pining I saw? Perhaps?
> 
> The support on this fic has been great, thanks so much! As always, comments and kudos make great motivators (is that worded right. hm).
> 
> See you next week for chapter 12! 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)  
> [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	12. Quite A Pair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: just swearing? Or in Captain America's words: Language!

Tony wasn’t quite sure where he’d gone wrong. He’d played it slowly over the next few months after Christine left Stephen, not being _nearly_ as indulgent as he could have been with the other man’s company. Didn’t force himself onto Stephen, didn’t flirt (past reason), was polite and calm and supportive.

And finally, _finally_ when an opportunity presented itself for him and Stephen to move things to the next level (Tony hadn’t _completely_ hidden the fact that he was interested), Stephen accepts! And they dress up, and go to the dance together, clichéd as anything. As soon as they arrive, however, the doctor immediately goes back to clamming up.

Tony’s thinking no, Stephen’s probably just a little nervous being the plus-one of a billionaire, put under the spotlight by so many. So Tony goes out of his way to do the best he could for his date (as a gentleman would). He ordered drinks for the both of them, refused to leave Stephen alone to dance or even make conversation with another group. Was attentive and aware of the other man’s needs.

And after agreeing to dance with some other random woman Stephen essentially pawned Tony onto, after insisting Tony going off with others was _just fine,_ Stephen… disappears. After the dance, Tony politely declined another and checked his phone, seeing a text from Stephen saying there was a work emergency.

Pulling up the hospital schedule (Tony gave himself special access), he could tell Stephen wasn’t on a shift however, nor signed himself up voluntarily. Checking the tracker he had placed in Stephen’s phone during some odd moment in one of their hospital consultations, Tony saw the surgeon was near his own penthouse (he had walked based on the timing of it, in the cold, apparently _so_ desperate to get away from Tony).

Why would Stephen have lied? Was he _still_ so terrified of the prospects of a relationship with Tony? And if so, _why?_ Tony had done _everything_ right! And Christine surely was not the most difficult person to get over. Frustrated, Tony grabbed his own coat and got the valet to bring his car around, speeding off to Stephen’s place to demand an explanation, fast enough the tires screeched against the road.

Pulling up in front of the doors, Tony bounded out of the car, uncaring of leaving the keys in (he texted Happy to take the car back, and trusted the man to get there soon enough). Just seeing Stephen step in an elevator, he ran inside, knowing the bellhop would allow him past the entrance (just had to pay for the man’s kids’ education, no big deal), and just managed to stick his arm between the closing doors so he could also get in, them being the only two people in the lift.

Stephen looked startled by Tony’s sudden appearance. “Tony? What are you doing here?”

Tony huffed. “I think the better question is what are you doing here? Doesn’t look very much like a work emergency to me.”

“Don’t think I used the word ‘emergency,’ per se.”

Tony glared. “Don’t change the subject. Why’d you ditch?”

The taller man flinched. “You seemed busy enough.”

“You _insisted_ I dance with her! I told you we were together in this, and you still left! What’s going on with you? With us?” Tony said, desperation in his voice.

Stephen whispered something, staring at the floor, tears building up.

Tony struggled to calm down, his next words still coming out sharply. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I don’t know!” Stephen exclaimed. “I don’t _know,_ what I’m doing, or what we’re doing, or why any of this has happened! I am so _fucking confused,_ and _scared,_ and _exhausted._ And you shouldn’t have to deal with any of this! Go home, Tony.”

The elevator doors opened onto Stephen’s floor, and both men walked out into the hallway, dim lights oddly suiting the tension in the air. Stephen walked to the end door, Tony already knowing the route after visiting the doctor’s penthouse so many times.

Tony took a breath. “You know I’m not going to do that Stephen. Let me help you. Let’s take this one step at a time. What do we know?”

Stephen had just fit the key into the lock, opening the door. They both stepped in, Stephen closing the door behind him, avoiding eye contact. He shrugged off his coat and hung it on the rack near the entrance. Tony did the same. They sat on the couch near each other.

“I know you’re here,” Stephen began quietly. “And Christine isn’t. And I’m so _angry_ she isn’t. And upset. And I’m angry that I’m angry about it. Especially when you’ve been so… warm.”

Tony felt his stomach flip at Stephen’s admission, tamping down some of the annoyance at Christine still being an obstacle not even _being here._ He leaned forward to take both of Stephen’s hands in his. “You know I’ll always be here right? No matter what. Always yours.”

Stephen smiled at the gesture, at the constant of _Tony._ “You have no idea how much I want to be _yours._ ”

“Then what’s holding you back? Tell me and I’ll fix it!”

“I don’t know if it’s something you can fix. I just… don’t know what could prevent _us_ from ending as disastrously as my last relationship did. There was no reason! I don’t know, if it was me or her, or something else. And I’m terrified the same could happen with you and me. I’m not ready for that to happen.”

_Crap. Shit. Fuck. Fuucck!_ How was Tony supposed to reassure Stephen that they couldn’t end like him and Christine because _he_ was the reason for that. Just going ‘hey, we’ll be fine, because _I_ broke the two of you up so we could get together! So no worries! I certainly wouldn’t do anything to sabotage _us._ ’ Yeah, that couldn’t happen. May as well end himself right there.

Stephen noticed Tony freeze up however, ever the observant one. “Are you alright?”

Tony glued on a sympathetic (but hopefully encouraging) smile. “I know what you mean. But I’m different from Christine. And you’re different from who you once were. And one of the things about relationships is no one ever knows how they’ll turn out. You’ve just got to hope, and work hard at it, and love each other. And I know I’ve already got that last one down.”

Stephen’s eyes widened. “Y-you love me?”

“I do. I’d do anything for you to prove it.”

“No, I believe you. I trust you.” _And could perhaps love you,_ went unspoken between them.

“Then are we trying this?” Tony asked hopefully.

After a pause, with Stephen smoothing Tony’s hands using his thumbs, he looked up, eyes bright and crinkled with a smile. “Yes,” he breathed.

Tony dropped the other man’s hands, and leaned in for a kiss, trapping the doctor on either side with his arms, smiling when Stephen moved to reciprocate it, holding his neck between his hands. It was like a homecoming, full and satisfying and dark and deep.

Breaking apart, Tony mumbled against the other man’s lips, “awesome,” and grinned feeling Stephen laugh beneath him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> Well, they finally got together. There's so much Stephen doesn't know, sigh.
> 
> Love love love the support this fic gets, kudos and comments are always appreciated. See you next week for chapter 13! 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)   
>  [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	13. Rapture

Stephen woke up to calloused fingertips tracing his back through his shirt, from where he was sleeping on his stomach. He smiled before opening his eyes, groaning and burying his face further into the pillow.

“Morning handsome. Did I wake you?”

At this, Stephen opened one eye, revealing the man beside him, still meditatively tracing Stephen. “Hmmm, and if you did?” His voice was still gravelly from sleep.

“God I love your morning voice. And if I did, it’s only because I missed your beautiful eyes.”

“You’re just full of complements this morning, aren’t you? How long have you been up?”

“A few hours.”

“Really?” Stephen sat up. “You could’ve woken me up, or helped yourself to the kitchen, or something.” He didn’t want to mention the option of leaving, in the off-chance Tony took that opportunity.

“Watching you is enough.”

Stephen snickered. “I was just sleeping.”

“And you look good when you sleep. Just like you look good when you’re awake. I like this scruffy version of you by the way.” Tony reached up and scratched Stephen's scalp, ruffling the already disarrayed hair. Stephen grumbled, trying to hide his pleasure at the man’s ministrations, before leaning his head on Tony’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I could get used to you doing this every morning,” Stephen teased.

“Whatever you want babe—ugghh…” Tony shifted from reassurance to arousal once Stephen turned his face to kiss and suck on his neck, the sensations travelling to places it was too early for. “Hey Steph?” Tony asked breathlessly. “You might wanna stop unless you have a freer morning than planned.”

Stephen pecked at Tony’s ear one last time, having ventured up from the base of his throat, before parting from him. He looked apologetic. “I wish I did, you’re a little too fun to play with. But I have work.”

Tony pouted. “Want me to call in? I have that influence.”

Stephen swung his legs over the edge of the bed, stretching his arms behind him. “I know you do. I remember you changing my shift the morning after…” he trailed off.

Desperate to prevent Stephen from remembering too many awful things about Christine leaving, Tony was quick to revert the taller man’s thought process to the present. Happier times. “So was that a yes? A no?”

Stephen smiled, closing his eyes, shaking his head at the ground. “Not today. And I need you to never do that unless I ask you to, okay? It’s important.”

Tony nodded, eager to please. “Of course. I wouldn’t… except maybe if you’re killing yourself working?”

Stephen chuckled. “No, I’d have the other doctors keep me in check. Trust me.”

Tony didn’t necessarily like the sound of that. He didn’t _want_ other doctors to keep Stephen in check. He wanted only himself responsible for caring for him. Because if others were there, Tony couldn’t have the doctor to himself.

But he was torn because Stephen asked him to trust him. And of course he trusted Stephen. The thing is, the doctor might have been a little too trusting of others. What if they didn’t have Stephen’s best interests at heart? Of course he’s brilliant. Couldn’t he be _used_ by the hospital for his skills, despite his well-being? Tony’d met enough elitists to know well-being would _never_ be prioritized over profit. What if Stephen was susceptible to the same extortion? Despite all the bells and whistles claiming Stephen was getting paid more than enough? How did it balance itself with his workaholic tendencies?

“Tony?”

Stephen’s concern pushed Tony out of his spiralling thought process. “Of course I trust you. I won’t rearrange shifts or anything without your say-so.”

The grateful smile in return was enough to distract Tony from making plans to fix Stephen’s job arrangements for the time being. He’d save that for a later time. Shifting the subject, Tony prompted “breakfast before your shift then?”

“What’s with you and breakfast? You seem more like a 6 shots of espresso-and-go type of guy, if I’m being honest.”

Tony smirked at that. “Maybe I am. But I rather you wouldn’t be. You should take care of yourself more, including having a decent meal at least once a day.”

“A bit of a double-standard, no?” Stephen asked wryly.

“Nah, you’re infinitely more important than me,” Tony replied earnestly.

The intensity of that startled Stephen, and created some vague sense of unease. Thinking it was just irrational because of relationship-starting jitters, he brushed that thought aside. “Hello, billionaire?”

“I’d give it all up for you in a heartbeat.”

“Sweet, but I’m gonna need you to calm down. We haven’t even been together a full day yet.”

“Just speaking the truth.”

“You have too much faith in me.”

“You don’t have enough.”

“There’s a difference between self-assurance and complete devotion to others,” Stephen insisted.

“And I’m completely devoted to you,” Tony responded in turn.

Blushing furiously, Stephen wrung his hands for a moment before kicking the comforter off himself, revealing the pyjama pants he was wearing. Of course they weren’t going to ‘sleep’ together the first night, despite both of them having pretty risqué reputations of the past.

“I’m going to get dressed now,” Stephen emphasized, attempting to move past that conversation. Not that he was _terrified_ of commitment or anything, but these declarations of total loyalty, almost _worship,_ were not something he was used to, from any past partners of his.

Of course, he’d be lying if along the unsettling feelings of it, there was some sadistic sense of pleasure. That maybe he was doing something right in pursuing this with Tony. Knowing of the love and attention coming to him up front. The constance of it being reassuring, rather than disturbing.

Tony leaned back in the bed, revealing the waistband of the pyjama pants he borrowed from Stephen (a little too long, to Stephen’s amusement and Tony’s dismay). “Guess I’ll enjoy the view then,” he said.

Stephen scoffed, pulling down his pyjama pants and stepping out of them, to pull on black dress pants a moment later. He decided he could change into scrubs at the hospital later. Next was the white button up shirt, tucked into the pants. Socks. He got dressed a little too quickly for Tony to be able to fully observe the man.

Tony got up to put the watch on Stephen’s wrist for him, standing in just the pyjama pants to Stephen’s fully dressed self. Stephen raised an eyebrow. “Not going to get dressed for breakfast?”

“Why don’t I make you something here?”

Stephen smiled, a curious expression on his face. “You can cook?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t be a true Italian if I couldn’t. And now you have the privilege of seeing me in action.”

“Alright then. Let’s put your skills to the test. Of course, the challenge is using whatever slim pickings actually exist in my fridge. I don’t cook much,” Stephen teased.

Tony grinned. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how persistently clean your kitchen is. If I didn’t know any better I’d think it’s just a display from Ikea or something.”

“Hmmm, coffee is my muse.”

“And I plan to change that.”

“Oh yeah? To what?”

“Me. And my wonderful cooking.”

Stephen could only hope to agree, and followed Tony to the kitchen.

He saw the man begin to pull out a loaf of bread and a carton of eggs, and snorted. “Toast and eggs? Thought you were going to be a little more creative than that.”

Tony grinned. “Oh, honey, these are just the base ingredients.” Ducking back in the fridge, Tony managed to come out with some vegetables, including tomatoes and spinach and a green bell pepper, afterwards getting bacon and a block of cheese.

Observing the mechanic cut up ingredients, Stephen realized what the plan was for breakfast. Omelettes and french toast. He got up, planning to help with the latter, seeing as he knew that much. Tony glanced up, smiling as he saw Stephen break some eggs in a bowl before adding milk and cinnamon. “Knew you’d catch on.”

Stephen shook his head smiling. “French toast was a staple in college. Basic ingredients and quick cook times were paramount to getting any food. I actually used to make it for some of the other people in my dorm.”

“You’re too kind. Never took a crack at omelettes?” Tony said this while breaking some eggs, a smirk forming on his face.

“Didn’t realize you were into dad jokes. But no, anytime I attempted flipping literally anything with great potentials of falling apart in the process… well, they fell apart in the process. Pancakes, omelettes, even tossing around ingredients in a skillet. All disasters!” Stephen explained dramatically, throwing his hands up in the air.

Tony felt warm hearing the man so willingly explain his little quirks. Seeing one of the omelettes was ready to be flipped, he directed the man over towards it. “I was taught by my mother, she was a great chef. I’ll teach you, don’t worry.”

Stephen hesitated fully. “T-Tony, I don’t think this is a good idea, I think you should just do it and I’ll admire from here— hey!”

Tony had taken both of Stephen’s hands, kissed each, and put them over the handle of the pan, and then wrapped his arms around the doctor’s torso, reaching around and placing his own on top of the doctor’s. Of course, if anything were to go wrong (although Tony had full faith in the man’s abilities), the spillage could only burn Tony’s hands and not his lover’s. “Here, it’s just a flick of the wrist, food gets suspended midair, then a soft landing back in the pan.”

Stephen scoffed, but kept a very intense attention on the pan. “Easier said than done.”

Tony kissed the man’s neck. “I believe in you.”

“That makes one of us.”

“Ready? On three. One, two, three, flip!”

Stephen did it, eyes scrunched shut and shying away from the pan, mainly guided by Tony’s hands, expecting the hot food to end up anywhere but back on the pan. When he didn’t immediately feel burned however, he opened his eyes warily, one at a time, and was surprised to see the omelette flipped, cooking, his hands still covered by Tony’s. He grinned widely, slightly in shock, looking back at Tony before kissing him hard on the lips. “We did it!”

Tony laughed at Stephen’s incredulity. “Of course we did!”

Still riding the thrill of having successfully flipped his first omelette since all the spectacular disasters of college, Stephen finished the french toast, while Tony poured the coffee.

They ate at the kitchen counter, occasionally sending each other shy giddy smiles in-between bites. They loaded the dishes in the dishwasher right after, and cleaned up, with Tony finally getting dressed, mourning the loss of his borrowed pyjamas.

“Going to walk me to work then?” Stephen asked while shrugging on his coat.

Tony walked up, smoothing Stephen’s collar down meditatively. “Yeah, let’s go. When does your shift finish up?”

“Missing me already?”

“You know it babe.”

“If everything goes to plan, I should be done at around 10:00 tonight. I’ll text you when I get out, and then you can see if you can actually make it.”

“Stephie, any time at all, I’ll be there on the double,” Tony said grinning.

“Hmm, Ain’t No Mountain High Enough, Forever Yours, 1997,” Stephen recited automatically.

Tony kissed him, wrapping his hands around the doctor’s neck, weak at the easy display of the man’s knowledge. “And I’m forever _yours._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> I was going to post this chapter a lot shorter than it is now, but thought, nah may as well expand the fluff for as long as we'd have it. (It was going to end on the "Stephen could only hope to agree, and followed Tony to the kitchen" line).
> 
> Got some domestic fluff between our favourite future crime lord and clueless doctor, so how's that?
> 
> And I must mention this: Chadwick Boseman was an incredible actor, and did so much for Black representation in film. May he rest in peace as his legend lives on. 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)   
>  [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	14. Jealous

For the first time in a very long while, they were going out for dinner. Stephen had been quite taken with Tony’s skills cooking, and therefore, the two of them rarely had reason to leave the apartment for a good meal. In turn, the privacy of either the penthouse or the tower made it much easier for spur-of-the-moment make-out sessions always bordering on something a little more explicit.

Tony had picked out the restaurant. An Italian one, often frequented by higher classes, because of the atmosphere and great food the place offered, while not being too grandiose in its existence.

Wanting the night to go perfectly, Tony had sent a perfectly-tailored outfit to Stephen’s penthouse, a simple but elegant black suit, adorned with gold cufflinks and a bright blue handkerchief for the pocket, an ivory button up shirt underneath, Louboutin dress shoes.

Tony himself opted for something similar, but wearing a light-blue button up shirt, and a red handkerchief, so the two of them would complement each other perfectly. Let no one say Tony didn’t understand style.

When Tony pulled up to Stephen’s penthouse, the man came out, looking even better than Tony expected (only Strange could ever exceed expectations, in Tony’s book). Getting in the car, Stephen smiled at him. “Up to par?”

“You have no idea.”

“Don’t expect me to wear everything you choose from now on. Maybe it’ll be reversed.”

Tony laughed, beginning the drive to the restaurant. “Sounds about right. But you look gorgeous in what I did choose. Makes me feel good, knowing you’re _mine,_ to do with what I want.”

“Not your toy, as much as you’d like me to be. Only on special occasions,” Stephen responded teasingly.

The engineer sighed. “You’re too reserved. Just let me ravish you. Worship you. Any time. All the time.”

This time it was Stephen’s turn to sigh. “Relationships don’t _work_ like that, Tony. I’m not some… eternally important higher deity sent here just for you. I don’t want you to regard me like that, just like I wouldn’t for you. I love you, but we’re still our own people.”

Tony grinned, noticing the slip in Stephen’s words that the doctor had yet to realize.

Stephen narrowed his eyes. _“What?”_

Tony only hummed, smiling as he focused on the road. Then reached out a hand that his boyfriend held on apparent instinct. “You looove me,” Tony finally responded, song-like and teasing.

“I— what?” Tony could see Stephen backtracking, then realizing when he said it. “Oh. Yes of course. But is that really the _only_ thing you got from what I said? I was serious, you know.”

“Oh I know. It’s just nice to hear you say the words, despite whatever you said around it.”

Stephen blushed. “ _Like I said,_ we can love each other without equating ourselves to the gods themselves.”

“Hmmm, but where’s the harm in doing that?”

“Pain and heartbreak,” Stephen deadpanned, squeezing Tony’s hand.

Tony glanced over at the doctor. “Not for us,” he whispered.

Stephen shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

Tony pulled in to the restaurant’s parking garage, into a spot reserved for him, the restaurant knowing his preference for them so well. “Looks like we’re here.”

Walking inside, Tony and Stephen had their coats taken by staff, before being seated at a table beside a large window, overlooking the city. Being across from one another, Tony made a point to glance over Stephen suggestively, never tiring of seeing his boyfriend marked as his by the outfit.

Stephen smiled back, returning the flirtatious looks that just seemed second-nature to both of them.

Their little stare down was interrupted by movement out of the corner of Tony’s eye, resulting in what looked like some person standing by their table with no further intent to move away. Tony sighed, thinking it was some paparazzo that somehow made their way past the hostess at the front of the restaurant. Before Tony could say anything however, or even pointedly glare, the figure spoke up.

“Stephen?”

The doctor turned, recognition sparkling in his eyes. “Isaac?”

Whoever this ‘Isaac’ was smiled back. “Knew I recognized you. How’ve you been doing?”

Stephen grinned, standing up to hug the man in greeting. “I’ve been doing well. Let me introduce you to my partner, the one and only Tony Stark.”

Tony smiled tersely at Isaac, taking the extended hand. “Hi there. How do you two know each other?”

Their smiles at each other were as bright as the fucking sun. Stephen patted Isaac’s shoulder before sitting back down. “We were in medical school together. Crammed a lot of study nights in.”

Tony was incredulous. “Thought you said you were kind of a loner in school?”

This time Isaac spoke. “Oh he was. I just happened to squeeze myself in-between all his genius hours.”

Tony squinted. “Any reason for that.”

Isaac shook his head, smiling at Stephen fondly, apparently oblivious to Tony’s half-hearted interrogation. “I had a good feeling we’d click, and what do you know? I was right. Though apparently not good enough to get your number so we could stay in touch!” Isaac added.

Stephen looked back teasingly. “I wasn’t in the habit of giving out my number to strangers then, and you didn’t have social media, old-timer.”

_Oh, that’s why I didn’t recognize him._ Tony’s research into Stephen’s past only went so far as whatever was recorded online.

“Says the man with the silver streaks. It was great catching up with you, but I think my date might be on the verge of exploding seeing me chat up someone else.”

“Surprised you even have a date,” Stephen said back. “Yeah, this was nice. Hopefully we’ll see each other around.”

Isaac nodded his leave, and turned to walk to some corner of the restaurant, out of Tony’s line of sight. Tony looked back at the doctor. “Did you two ever sleep together?”

Stephen choked on his drink, before setting his glass down and wiping his mouth with the cloth napkin that was on the table. “What? No! Of course not, it’s like I said, we just studied together.”

“If you’re _such_ good friends, how come you haven’t stayed in touch?”

“What is this, an interrogation? Tony, we were just friends, and we haven’t talked in _ages_ because it’s been _a very long time_ since med school, and I was never good at maintaining relationships long distance. I’m pretty sure he’s some professor out-of-state right now.”

“How would you know that if you haven’t been in touch? Stalking him online?”

“Oh my god, Tony. Christine mentioned it in passing, _months_ ago. We were all in the same classes.” Stephen said pointedly. “Can you stop being so crazy, for two seconds? You have _no reason_ to be jealous of a past you were _never part of._ ”

“And I’m not, but I’m a little jealous of you and him right now.”

“What? We were… catching up. How long did that conversation last? A minute? Two? What’s your deal?”

“My _deal_ is you two being _so close,_ and I haven’t heard of him once. Are you hiding something?”

“He would never have come up in any of our conversations organically. What do you want me to do, record my life’s history for your personal consumption? Jesus Christ!” With that, Stephen stormed off, leaving Tony alone at the table for all of half a second, before the engineer bolted off after him.

Tony took Stephen by the arm, just as the doctor was at the restaurant’s coatcheck. Stephen glared, shrugging the coat on as Tony refused to let go getting his own coat. “Tony, let go.”

“I can’t, sweetheart, not like this.”

Stephen yanked his arm away, but didn’t move as if to flee again, which was a sign of progress in Tony’s opinion. Tony mourned the loss of the physical contact, as they moved outside.

Stephen spoke first. “Tony, I can’t be _yours,_ as in your property. That’s not how this works.”

Tony nodded, not to show his agreement, but more willingness to cooperate. Swallowing, he answered “No, yeah, I know. I… I just get a little heated, seeing you work so well with other people.”

“I need to have my own people, obviously. You can’t be the only one in my life. And you should understand your value to me. We work well together, enough that you should trust me not to abandon you for someone else. But I can’t guarantee that, if you don’t _get your shit together._ ” This last part was said in a snarl.

Tony smiled weakly. “I know, I know. I think, just past experience might have… influenced me to be a little too… passionate about my relationships and partners or whatever.”

“You’re not _passionate,_ you’re _obsessive._ You need to find what brings you joy—and things other than me! You run this multi-billion dollar company, you are a _brilliant_ engineer. Find friends, find… solace in that. Live your own life, be your own person.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” What was Stephen talking about? You could never be your _own_ person, you were _always_ someone’s other half. Had no one explained this to him?

“No! Of course not. I’m just… setting boundaries. We are good together, I don’t want to lose that over something as frivolous as jealousy. But do you understand what I mean?”

Tony didn’t, but nodded anyway.

Stephen looked skeptical. “I don't think you do. Tony, you have to trust me. I don’t know exactly what caused you to be so… _paranoid,_ but whatever it is, I’m _not that._ ”

Tony could definitely agree with that. Stephen was beyond important, so much more than any of Tony’s previous partners. “I-I know. I’m sorry. I don’t want to make excuses for being an asshole. I just… I want to… ugh!”

Stephen waited patiently for Tony to continue trying to explain himself.

Tony met the doctor’s gaze, more evenly than he thought he was capable of. “I love you. And you’re right.” He didn’t _actually_ think so, but what’s a little white lie here or there to preserve a relationship? He inhaled. “I want to do better for you. Let me do better.”

Stephen looked at Tony with something akin to warmth, or even pity. _Bingo,_ Tony thought. He made sure to play up his expression to show regret, begging. He knew he had the kind of eyes no one could resist.

Stephen exhaled. “We’ll both do better. For each other.”

Tony nodded eagerly, and hooked his arms around the doctor to pull him down, startling a laugh from Stephen, before they kissed from where they were in front of the restaurant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> A bit more of Tony's possessive side is coming out to play, how do we feel about that?
> 
> This was a chapter I wrote in-between several of my prewritten chapters, since next chapter is when a major plot point happens that would change their current dynamic, so I wanted to milk this part of their lives while we have it.
> 
> The support has been so great for this fic, I love all of you that have read this, left comments or kudos (or all three, haha). See you next week for chapter 15 in this fic!
> 
> I will be posting a coffee shop AU one-shot I've been writing at some point between today and next Saturday, so look out for that too! Take care of yourselves my lovelies. 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)   
>  [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	15. Trip Planning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: implied sexual content! and discussions of past self-harm

_I never want this to end,_ Tony thought, looking down at his partner’s head in his lap. Stephen had just gotten back from a long shift, and all but collapsed onto Tony who was already seated on the couch waiting for him. He slipped into what seemed like a dreamless sleep after Tony began stroking his hair, Tony continuing to regardless of whether Stephen could still feel it or not.

He just looked so peaceful, and trusting, in Tony’s arms. It had been a few months since Tony’s declaration of love that night after the charity gala they attended together, and actually dating Stephen had far surpassed his fantasies of having the doctor to himself.

Only a few times had Tony been almost _reprimanded_ by Stephen for acting a little too ‘obsessively,’ in Stephen’s words. But what the engineer didn’t get was how Stephen could be so blind to how Tony was meaning to _protect_ him, not anything sadistic. He loved the doctor so much. His snark, his intensity, his sorrow, every part of him.

And so it was a tad frustrating when Stephen wouldn’t heed his advice and take shorter shifts, or dress in whatever Tony chose for him, or go hang out with others when Tony was perfectly free to keep him company. He belonged to Tony, just as much as Tony belonged to him. Isn’t that the saying? _Yours and mine._

But nevertheless, they stayed together. Tony was persistently terrified Stephen would leave him, after realizing the depths of Tony’s own issues. Nightmares of his parents’ car accident and trust issues and workaholic tendencies. But the first time he had a nightmare while they were in bed together, Stephen was perfect. Comforting and not pushing Tony to talk about it, and coaxing him back to sleep rubbing soothing circles on his arm.

The next morning, Tony finally summoned up the courage to tell Stephen about recurring nightmares of his, and instead of shunning Tony for being so messed up, the doctor instead shared his own stories of his sister drowning and the lasting trauma from that (of course, Tony already knew about most of Stephen’s past, but it was still a nice gesture). They took comfort in each other, and spent the rest of the day watching movies before finally screwing each other for the first time.

Seeing Stephen in the nude for the first time had completely undone Tony. Just pale, long, slightly toned parts, all making up the perfect man Tony knew him to be. Certain aspects of the doctor’s physique surprised him. He was pleased to see little freckles dotting his broad shoulders, and the blush-tones that spread over his neck instead of just over his cheeks.

However, there was evidence, Tony found, that Stephen had a tendency to self-harm. Or had done so at some point in the past. Four parallel scars, seeming carefully carved from years before, a starker pale peach colour compared to the rest of his skin, along his left thigh. When Stephen noticed Tony staring, he cleared his throat reflecting his unease.

“Sorry, I forgot to tell you… about those. I know, they look awful. Impulsivity in my teens, I’m afraid.”

Tony hadn’t read about _this,_ anywhere. A total surprise from Stephen’s past. How much more was the doctor hiding? And now he was staring. Right, he should say something.

“Stephen, I need you not to do that to yourself, ever again.”

The taller man nodded, swallowing. “I know, I’m doing better now, it’s okay.”

He couldn’t seem to let it go, however. “No, I mean ever. I can’t… lose you to something like this. I need you to remain intact, and here with me, and safe. You can’t… mark yourself up like this, I won’t let you.”

Stephen seemed slightly undeterred by the intensity of Tony’s voice. But didn’t he realize? Tony loved him, as he was, and changing any part of him, without Tony’s permission, could ruin everything they have. Stephen _belonged_ to Tony, just as much as Tony belonged to him.

Eager to move back to what they were doing, however, Stephen spoke. “I know. I’m right here, Tony, it’s okay. I’m safe. I’m healthy. It’s okay, I’m with you.”

That warmed Tony’s heart beyond reason. And with that, Tony _pounced,_ desperate to prove to himself they’d be okay.

And _oh,_ the sounds Stephen made. The initial frantic whispering, surprised moans, desperate pleading, the louder cries of pleasure, and Tony knowing _he_ was the reason for that, being fully intimate with the other man, was enough to make it the best of any time Tony had ever slept with anyone. Claiming Stephen as his own, and being able to do it again any time they wanted, all seemed too good to be true.

Which is why Tony was hesitant to leave for Afghanistan. Stroking Stephen’s hair absent-mindedly by this point, which he had been doing for over an hour, he thought of preparations he’d have to do upon his departure. Send some warning to Christine to not make contact with Stephen despite Tony being out of the country. Make sure Stephen’s shifts allowed the doctor to take care of himself accordingly. Check cameras in his partner’s apartment and place of work, so Tony could make sure Stephen was safe at any time.

“Mmmm…” Stephen hummed, slowly waking up. He stretched out his limbs, eyes still closed, seeking Tony’s hand to continue his ministrations.

“Hey there sweetheart.”

Stephen blinked open his eyes, revealing brightening blues in the dimmer lighting. He smiled warmly. “Hi Tony. How are you?”

“I was just about to ask you the same thing. You seemed extraordinarily tired.”

“Nah, it’s just work. I’m feeling especially well-rested now.” He even had the audacity to wink, sitting up beside Tony, shifting so their faces were inches apart.

“Oh yeah?” Tony prompted, “how’d you feel about this then?” He moved to kiss Stephen, then his ear, down to the base of his neck.

A muffled moan in response, from where Stephen was burying his face in Tony’s shoulder, unconsciously encouraging the engineer to continue. “Really good.”

Tony took off his shirt, pulling off Stephen’s next, and from there, things escalated, until they had both reached their peaks through desperate (but no less loving) hand jobs, and were laying against each other stretched out along the couch, breathing in synch and faces red from exertion.

Stephen was absent-mindedly tracing patterns on Tony’s stomach, face pulled in concentration. Tony noticed, prompting the doctor. “What are you thinking about?”

The doctor’s finger paused from where it was midway through yet another mindless line, and flattened along with the rest of Stephen’s hand, smoothing over Tony pulling him closer. He paused, then spoke. “You seemed… slightly frantic just now. Are you okay?”

_Oh. Did I really make it so obvious?_ “Well…”

Stephen tensed up, sitting up beside Tony, uncaring of his post-sex look, and prompted Tony to do the same. “What is it?”

“I have a business trip, to Afghanistan, for a weapons demonstration, and then some consecutive meetings in other countries.”

“Oh. When?”

“Next week.”

“Is it so bad? You’ve been on business trips before.”

“Yeah, no, I don’t think it’ll be a big deal. I’m just concerned with leaving you behind.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“A couple of weeks.”

Stephen smirked. “Oh, what will I do without you for that time?”

Tony scoffed. “Damn right, what will you do without me?” he asked mockingly.

Playing into it, Stephen faked swooning. “I’ll be absolutely _destroyed!_ You have no idea. I-I’d be… lonely, and distraught that my boyfriend could just leave me at the drop of a hat! And I’d miss you, _every second_ you were gone. And I’d hole myself up in your room, just waiting for you to get back.”

Tony smiled. “Doesn’t sound like too bad of a welcome-home present. You all bundled up in my bed.”

Stephen smiled warmly then, mirth dancing in his eyes. “Tell you what, if my schedule allows for it, I’ll be exactly where you’d want me when you get back. Maybe a little dressed up in something special.”

The sound of that reawakened something in Tony he was probably a little too old for, but nonetheless, felt great coming from the love of his life. “Oh yeah? A surprise, or am I choosing?”

Stephen pondered the question. “Hmm, a surprise. Let’s see how well I can please you.”

“You could please me wearing a garbage bag, but whatever. Sounds like a plan, Stephie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> We've finished ch. 15 already, can you believe it! Love, love the support this fic gets. I might be a bit slower responding to comments from now on, now that I've officially begun my second year of uni (YAY), but they are always, ALWAYS appreciated.
> 
> Me writing the 'implied sexual content': frantically googling another word for f**ing'  
> Also me: s c r e w i n g (I refuse! to say 'making love'... gross)
> 
> Can't wait to see you for ch. 16! 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)   
>  [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	16. Captivity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: kidnapping, use of chloroform

Tony had just left for his flight, and despite Stephen putting on a face to reassure Tony everything would be alright, the doctor couldn’t help but worry regardless. He knew more than anyone of the target painted on Tony’s back, put there by the billions of dollars the man owned and having one of the biggest businesses in weapons manufacturing.

He chewed on his thumbnail seeing Tony off in his private plane, and then got a ride to the hospital. Nothing better to calm himself down than delving into work and forgetting everything else. It would just be two weeks, he’d be alright. _They’d_ be alright.

They did promise to call each other every night. And on the day Tony would be back home, Stephen would be waiting for him, as promised. He did say he would only do that if it didn’t get in the way of work, and miraculously, his shifts were arranged _just_ so that he would be able to do that!

He trusted Tony not to have manipulated it, after the man promised him not to without Stephen’s express permission. And their mutual respect and love for each other was more than he could have asked for, especially after how disastrously his last relationship ended.

When Stephen got to the Metro General, his shift was crowded with non-stop surgeries, barely allowing him ten minutes for some semblance of a break. At the end of it, he headed home, on the way back stopping at the grocery store for some basic dinner supplies (Tony _insisted_ Stephen at least try to eat like a normal person while he was away; Tony did most of the cooking), and on the off-occasion Stephen had to cook, he always went supply shopping on Friday nights, out of a habit stemming from childhood.

His mom would always say grocery shopping wasted the beautiful time weekends provided, which is why prepping food at the start was the easiest path forward. Of course, she wasn’t as… kind about the other aspects of Stephen’s life, meaning that while he could do groceries on Fridays, there was an equal chance of him cooking for a man or a woman when he got home.

Strolling along the aisles, Stephen shook his head of those memories, and pondered how much he should make, probably enough for at least two days, so he could just eat leftovers later. Less dishes and meal prep anyways. He certainly didn’t take shortcuts in the surgeries he performed, but blasé tasks such as this? Cutting corners was no big deal.

Feeling someone’s eyes on him, he glanced around. No one in particular stood out. Hm. Maybe he was just being paranoid. Getting in one of the lines to pay, he looked around once more. _There._ A short ( _vaguely-familiar?_ ) brunette, who’d immediately darted into the nearest aisle once Stephen had spotted them. He briskly walked over to investigate, the basket bouncing against his knee.

But as he turned into the aisle, no one was there. Odd. Going back to the cash, he figured maybe it was just a trick of the light. What he didn’t notice was the figure getting dragged off by guards through the back of the store, his own pursuit of the person triggering the security personnel he didn’t know he had.

_In the same moment_

“Hey, hands off! What are you doing?”

“Stark’s orders ma’am. Did he not warn you to stay away while he was out of the country?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, let me go!”

At that moment, they released Christine’s arms, after roughly dragging her out of the back of the store. There were two guards with her, in the dingy back alley they brought her to. “What were your intentions with Stephen Strange?”

“I had no _intentions_ with him. This was a total coincidence.”

“It would do you some good to stop lying, Miss Palmer. We’re fully aware of your relationships with both Mr. Stark and Dr. Strange. We know you are states away from where you should be.”

Christine inhaled. Exhaled. “I just wanted to see how he was doing. I wasn’t going to speak with him.”

“Regardless of that, you’ve violated Stark’s orders to stay away. We’re going to have to take you into custody, and await further instruction.”

“You can’t do that, you aren’t police!”

No response. Just the distant sound of a car pulling up before both men reached for Christine again.

“No! I’m not going with you! Let go!”

“Ma’am, we can do this the easy or the hard way. Your choice.”

“We’re not doing this in any way! Leave me alone!” Christine yelled, before attempting to run out into the street. The next thing she knew, she was grabbed harshly from behind, a cloth held over her face that smelled simultaneously sweet and chemical-like, before everything faded to black.

_Afghanistan_

“She actually went to see him? Damn. Did he see her? No? Alright. Is he aware of your place there? Good, he can’t know. He’d murder me.” Tony smiled at Stephen’s insistence on independence. How naive of him.

Ending the call, Tony lay back on the bed in the hotel room, after loosening his tie. He couldn’t believe Christine would try something so stupid. He sent the warning, he was very fair about it! And now he had her confined, so she couldn’t interfere any longer. Ugh. Just another mess he had to deal with. Of course he wouldn’t _kill_ her. Probably just fake her death. Support Stephen while he mourns.

He rubbed his eyes. _Damn the 8.5 hour time difference!_ It was around 4am here, which meant Stephen was actually coming home early for once. If the man would actually sleep on time, was a different question.

They had mutual workaholic tendencies, and were constantly working to take care of each other, and in turn, themselves. Tony thought of it as rather comforting, very domestic.

He couldn’t wait for this trip to be over. He’d arranged Stephen’s shift ( _obviously_ ) so the doctor would indeed be waiting for him in something sweet when Tony got back.

Weapons demonstration tomorrow, dinner the same evening, meetings and whatnot in other countries, which means he’d be on at least four plane rides over the course of two weeks.

Missing his partner’s voice already, Tony dialled Stephen’s number, checking the cameras in his boyfriend’s apartment so he could see Stephen while they spoke. It was picked up after two rings, the first thing Tony hearing being some bubbling pot in the background, the scrape of metal cooking tools. Made sense with the picture Tony was seeing of Stephen in his kitchen. Then his boyfriend’s beautiful voice. “Hey Tony. What time is it there?”

“4ish? Yeah. How are you?”

“Missing your cooking. Why you like doing it, I’ll never understand.” The sound of the stove switching off, Stephen leaning over to flick the switch while tossing a salad. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I’ve grown used to sleeping next to you, love. The bed’s too cold without you.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re the heater in this relationship.”

“I’m wounded. Is that all I am to you? An excellent chef and radiator?” Tony teased.

“Excellent’s definitely pushing it. But don’t forget personal sex worker and my partner in crime,” Stephen explained confidently. Tony could see his smug face from the camera’s position.

Tony scoffed, grinning. “Y’know what? I can live with that. Let’s rob a bank or something when I get back.”

“You’re a _billionaire,_ you seem to forget that!”

“Fine. Whatever we get, goes into your bank account. Or perhaps savings for your watch collection.”

“…Deal. I miss you.”

“Miss you too. Night Stephie.”

“Good night Tony.” Tony looked on after the phone call ended, seeing Stephen scroll through his phone as he had his dinner, before he headed to bed. Tony smiled seeing him hug a pillow from Tony’s side, in place of him while he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> Hoo boy, progress on this fic has been non-existent since uni started (busy busy busy!). Luckily I had this pre-written chapter and ch. 17 also done, so updates can stay consistent.
> 
> I hope to continue writing once I get the hang of online classes and assignments, but in the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> Erhm, wishing you the best with your classes/jobs/whatever the heck's going on in your lives, and be sure to take care of yourselves. 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)   
>  [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	17. Missing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: major injury descriptions (not intensely graphic, but still something to watch out for), captivity

The news came to Stephen in a blur of consecutive events. His phone rang during his shift, at which point he was informed by some man in a suit sent to alert him that it was important. About to scold them for interrupting the surgery he was doing, he paused seeing their grave expression, and held his tongue.

“What is it?”

“This is about your partner, Tony Stark. Sir, he’s gone missing.”

Stephen’s mind short-circuited. “W-what do you mean, missing?”

“Sir, I think you should sit down—”

“I don’t want to sit down, where is he?! What do you mean he’s gone missing?!”

“That’s just it, doctor. He had finished with his weapons demonstration, and then his ride back was ambushed. His security were found killed, and he has been declared missing. We already have people searching, adding to police and military investigations.”

At this point, Stephen felt he was spiralling, dropping to his knees, in the background feeling a hand on his back in support. “O-oh _god._ Who are you? How do you know all this?”

“I’m one of Tony’s closest confidants, sir. Harold Hogan, at your service. In the case of something happening to Tony, such as now, I’ve been assigned to protect you until I receive further instruction, hopefully from the man himself.”

_Harold Hogan, Harold Hogan_ … “Happy?”

Happy smiled. “Knew he’d mention me. While we’re figuring this out, shall I drive you home?”

Stephen thought he should knock that smile off _Harold’s_ face. Who in their right mind would _ever_ smile in a predicament like this?! Was it meant to offer comfort? Support? Because he was feeling _none_ of that. “Well if you’re actually ‘at my service,’ do me a favour and cut the smiling. Tony’s _gone._ And having to deal with your bullshit is more than I can handle right now.”

Happy stopped smiling. “I’m going to have to escort you home now, doctor.”

Stephen glared. “I can drive myself, thank you very much,” and with that, he walked off in the other direction. As much as Stephen wanted to stay on shift to piss off Tony’s so-called ‘confidant,’ he knew he’d never be able to focus on his patients in the state he was in. His boyfriend was just _kidnapped._

A hand on his arm stopped him in his path. Stephen shrugged it off, backing against the wall. “Don’t _touch_ me, Hogan.”

“I’m sorry, sir. But Mr. Stark insisted you be taken back to the tower in the case of him being targeted.”

“Oh, because I’d be a target as well? _News flash:_ I have no reason to trust you right now. How would I know you aren’t working for whoever took him?”

“I can assure you, my loyalty cannot be bought out. But if you need proof, here.” Happy took out his phone, and Stephen could hear the confirmation face recognition gave ( _Hello, Harold ‘Happy’ Hogan_ ). Then the man pulled up a video, of Tony from his office. Stephen perked up at seeing the man’s familiar face. He snatched the phone from the guard’s hands and pressed play.

“Hey sweetheart. Uh, I’m sorry that with me, a situation like this is all too possible in our relationship. But if you’re watching this, you’d be with Happy after I’d been taken.” Stephen let out a sob at that, but kept his focus on the video. “And I need you to go with him, okay baby? It all seems a little too crazy to be real, but I need you to trust that I’ve thought this through. I’ll make it back to you one way or another. I love you, so much, and I’ll see you soon.”

Stephen stared, silent tears streaming down his face, seeing the video end on Tony’s wry smile and sad eyes. “How-how did he know this would happen? Why didn’t he tell me?”

Happy’s expression was grave, lips pressed tightly in a thin line. “Bitter experience, I suppose. And he probably didn’t want to worry you.”

Stephen laughed wetly at that. “Oh sure, I’m definitely not worried now.” His voice cracked with the last word, and began sobbing.

Happy put a hand on Stephen’s shoulder in a comforting gesture, smoothing his fingers over the scrubs the doctor still donned. “Let’s get you home.”

_Afghanistan_

Tony startled into consciousness, a pounding in his head and excruciating pain in his chest, vision swimming. One minute he was in the Jeep, then there were explosions, and _oh god, what’s happening to me?_ He groaned loudly, blinking rapidly until the dizziness ebbed.

“Hello Stark. It’d be safer for you if you didn’t move too much until you completely have your bearings.”

Tony leaned over until he could see who owned the irrationally calm voice. Could they not sense his distress? Or maybe they did, and were trying to defuse his escalating anger and fear. Not going to happen, if he had to run on cold logic alone, he might as well give up then and there. He wasn’t emotionless, wasn’t made for calm. He was here for the intensity life offered, other _people_ offered… _shit._ Stephen.

What could he be without Stephen? Where was his partner now? Tony _needed_ him, needed the doctor’s laughter and cutting remarks and strong safe arms, his teasing and promises of a better tomorrow. Stinging tears made themselves known, blurring his vision further. He had to get back, had to—

Tony looked down at his chest, which had taken on an immeasurably painful burning sensation, and saw wires poking out of his singed shirt. Tearing it apart, he saw the horrible machinery in the middle of his chest. Inelegant, crude pieces miraculously tied to a car battery he’d have to carry. He could do better. He would do better. And then he’d escape. From wherever the hell he was.

He sat up, eyeing the man once more. Wearing glasses and looking worse for wear, kind eyes with a knowing frown. Seeming to cook something in a dull metal pot, matching their dull surroundings. Looked like an unpolished storage unit, cave-like and dimly lit.

Before Tony could say anything, the man spoke up again. “When they come, know two things. Put your hands behind your head, and _don’t say a word._ ”

“Who’s ‘they?’ And who are you?”

“Call me Yinsen, and ‘they’ are a terrorist group called the Ten Rings.”

“What do they want with me?”

The sounds of footsteps came from behind the door, signalling their captors’ approach. “Looks like we’re about to find out. Hands up!”

He did as told, and in the next moment, the doors opened. Looked like he was in for a ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope you're doing well.
> 
> We've finally reached that point of Tony's kidnapping! Only took 17 chapters.
> 
> I actually have no pre-written chapters past this point, so we'll see how progress happens from this point on. I do plan on sticking with the uploading once-weekly, so hopefully that pans out.
> 
> Thanks so much for the support on this fic. Comments and kudos are life.
> 
> Stay safe, take care of yourself, wash your hands. 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)   
>  [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	18. Bravo

Stephen felt he couldn’t breathe. Laying against the couch from where he was sitting on the floor, he tried his best to control his emotions, having them come over him like a tidal wave. There was anger, that one of the greatest things to happen to him was taken away so brutally. There was such sadness, already feeling the ache in his heart that his boyfriend left behind.

And there was stone-cold fear, accompanied by helplessness. After Happy had taken him back to Tony’s penthouse, Stephen sent him away, not wanting to see anyone, not wanting anyone to see him. He was alone save for Tony, and now there was all the chance he might not even have that.

What was going to happen to him? What if— what— when, why, _how?_ All Stephen wanted was for Tony to be okay, and to be back home, _safe._ What were Tony’s plans for him after this? Knowing something like this could happen, and not _warning_ Stephen?! Was this some kind of sick joke?! He had Happy escort him here, check. Is there some kind of eternal protection scheme from now on? What would happen at work, with the investigations in Afghanistan, how could Stephen do _anything?_

No longer wishing to travel down that path of spiralling thoughts, Stephen lifted himself off from the floor with a groan, noticing the darker patch on the couch cushion left from his tears. He walked over to the front door, remembering the first time he woke up in Tony’s guest room, wanting nothing to do with the man past business partners.

What a joke. If Stephen had only _known_ how things were going to turn out, he might’ve jumped the man right then and there. Tony seemed keen enough, since their first meeting. Relentlessly there to support him, even through the fiasco that was Christine’s and his breakup, and his own disastrous insecurities. Sometimes overbearing, but it was almost sweet the lengths Tony was willing to go to in proving his devotion to Stephen.

Putting on his coat, Stephen sniffed, suddenly feeling stifled by the apartment. He needed to get out of there, try to get his mind off things if he wasn’t at least going to be productive in controlling his emotions. Opening the door, he saw two men standing outside the door, both donning black suits, facial expressions seeming surprised at Stephen’s exit, as well as two more down the hall.

“Who the hell are you?” Stephen asked the men nearest to him, breaking the silence.

“Hello Doctor Strange, you can call me Bravo, and this here is Charlie. Down the hall you’ll see Delta and Echo. In the case of an event such as this, we’ve been given the assignment of personnel on your security team. I’m aware Hogan escorted you from the hospital yesterday evening?” One of the two said.

“Yes, but he said nothing about this. Should I be expecting you to follow me around everywhere then?”

“Yes sir, you have the right idea. He requested that your protection would meet the highest standards, and so that means a permanent set of guards, rights to surveillance of your actions and movements, and resorting to containment if you make this more difficult than need be.”

Stephen felt a wave of annoyance wash over him, at Tony and at this so-called ‘security team.’ While he understood the risks associated with dating a man like Tony, and what this kidnapping could mean for his own safety, he was not some fragile _thing_ to be protected, locked away. He still had his own life, and freedom, this set of _rules_ making it exceedingly difficult to remember that.

“And who gave you these unalienable rights, _Bravo?_ ” Stephen sneered. “To my life, to my privacy, to my liberties? What a ridiculous name by the way. Using the _phonetic_ alphabet? You do realize ‘A’ comes before ‘B,’ yes? Where’s this ‘Alpha,’ then?”

“Sir, Alpha is Tony Stark. And with his position compromised, I was second in command, and now I am in charge until his return or we have absolute certainty of his death.”

Stephen flinched at the detachment delivered with that sentence. “He’s not dead. He’s not going to die.”

“We should hope not, Dr. Strange. But in the meantime, while we wait, I am requesting you comply with our demands. It is all for your safety, after all.”

Stephen snorted. “Requesting ‘compliance’ for ‘demands,’ seems like a bit of an oxymoron, don’t you think? And just curious, what happens should I not feel so… acquiescent, with this little schtick you’ve got going on?”

“Detainment is our next option, as I mentioned,” Bravo said, a hint of smugness in his voice.

“You do realize in protecting me, you’re working for me, correct? Can’t I just order you to stand down?”

“We do not work for you, doctor. We work for Mr. Stark. And under his command, we are in charge of you. This doesn’t get changed until he gets back to say otherwise.”

Stephen could feel himself rapidly lose control of the situation. “You don’t have the _right_ to do this! Y-you aren’t policemen, you aren’t judges, you’re _nothing_ but his _fucking_ puppets! ‘Doing as he says,’ ‘following his orders…’” Stephen paused. “How much is he paying you?”

“That’s confidential information, but with your salary, it’s doubtful you could even meet the fee to pay any of the team off.”

“H-how do you know my salary?” Isn’t that supposed to be _private?_

“Using any means necessary to ensure your safety is part of the job, and knowing your information is part of it. Doctor Strange, like it or not, we are going to be here for as long as it takes to recover Mr. Stark. And so, it would be a great disservice to your own wellbeing if you were to make further attempts at trying to get rid of us.”

“One could argue your presence paints a bigger target on my back. As much as people know Tony’s face, many aren’t bound to recognize me as a person of importance, unless they see the battalion of guards I’ve got accompanying me.”

“We’ve already come up with a background for explaining our presence. I am an old friend of yours, staying at your apartment while I gain my footings here in New York. I’ve already been hired as an assistant as Metro General, and will be by your side during your work hours. The other members of the team will remain incognito, watching you from a distance.”

“What happens now, then. I just go about my day, _Bravo?_ ”

“You have the right idea.”

Stephen took a breath, and walked back inside his apartment. Going out with the group didn’t seem like the most appealing thing to do at the moment. Closing the door behind him, he felt resistance against the polished wood. Looking up from the floor, he saw Bravo’s hand against the door.

“Being aware of your situation now, you must understand the necessity to have at least one guard with you at all times.”

“Great, gonna come shower with me then?” Stephen snarked, rolling his eyes.

“That’s exceeding expectations. As much as Mr. Stark wants a job well done, he is still quite possessive of… certain parts of you.”

“Seems like he’s possessive of _all_ of me.” Stephen sighed, taking out two glasses from one of the kitchen cabinets. “Drink?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope you're doing well.
> 
> I made my deadline! I said I was going to write chapter 18 this week and I did! I know I'm posting it a little later in the day than usual, but better late than never.
> 
> Stephen's got a security team now. And he hates Bravo. And Tony a little. But misses him more than that, let's be real.
> 
> I still need to watch Iron Man as a reminder of what actually happens in Afghanistan, so we can get this plot moving, but I hope you enjoyed this little piece of how things are going to work while Tony's missing.
> 
> BTW, I'm doing IronStrange drawings for Inktober! Check them out on my Insta!
> 
> Stay safe, wash your hands, take care of yourself. 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)   
>  [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	19. Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: descriptions of waterboarding/torture!!!

Tony had a plan. Part one was already finished. Replace car battery with miniature arc reactor. Easy peasy, allows for mobility, he’ll focus on the consequences of that later. Part two, he had to finish _fast,_ and _quietly._ He’d probably need Yinsen for assistance.

Looking at his sketched out plans for the metal suit, he got to work gathering equipment meant for the Jericho missile. Despite the waterboarding and the torture, it was their _threatening_ Stephen which got Tony to go forward with his own plans for escaping.

_Pulling up his head from the water, the yelling immediately resumed as Tony struggled to breathe. “Had enough yet, Mr. Stark?!”_

_Still coughing up water from his lungs, they forced Tony’s head back under the water for yet another fresh session of torture. Tony had lost track of how long it had been since they dragged him out from the cave with Yinsen._

_Lifted up again, Tony clutched the car battery close to his chest, in some pitiful attempt to ground himself. Glancing over, he could see Yinsen watching with a terrified expression, barely in control of his features._

_Tony was just about ready to pass out. Maybe another round and he’d be able to succumb to the darkness awaiting him. Gaining his focus, he realized his captor’s narrative had changed from the usual ‘giving up? Or are you ready for more?’_

_Instead, the voice had become smug. “Alright, Mr. Stark. Maybe you’re not the type to try and save yourself. How about we offer a new incentive?”_

_A photo was shoved into his line of sight, and his heart skipped a beat, all haziness suddenly gone from his mind. Stephen’s smiling face, full of adoration, remained oblivious to Tony’s fear, as Stephen continued to stare at the Tony in the photo, looking back with just as much love in his gaze._

_That was a good day. The photo must have been taken by paparazzi as they walked home from dinner at one of Stephen’s favourite restaurants. Stephen was wearing a watch gifted to him by Tony, an ivory face and a sapphire border._

_Glaring up, Tony deflated. Suddenly his time here became much more limited. They know about Stephen, something could happen, Tony had to SAVE him. “What do you need?” he whispered._

Testing another mechanism, he wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, wrapped in cloth to prevent being too scraped up. He didn’t want to freak out Stephen too much when he got back home.

_Home._ Tony yearned for that, more than he could have ever imagined yearning for anything. While knowing his security team would be protecting Stephen at all costs offered him some small comfort, there was nothing like being there in person to ensure the safety and well-being of his one true love.

There was almost too much risk in what he was trying to accomplish here and now. While he did portray some uneasy agreement to his captors once shown the photo of Stephen, it was more a method of stalling. He didn’t think Stephen would forgive him for so easily making a weapon of mass destruction to save the doctor, and if Tony thought further, he didn’t think he could forgive himself.

While nothing was worth more than Stephen, Tony still had some shred of morality left, after the mindless parties and drinking and sleeping around. Not to mention all the energy he put into research for objects that only destroyed, ruined lived, gave good reason for his other name, _The Merchant of Death._

Yinsen broke Tony from his spiralling thoughts. “So, Mr. Stark, I won’t bother asking if you have anyone waiting for you. I saw the fear in your eyes clearly enough, after… that intermission.”

Tony paused, stroking a finger over one of the leg plates. “Yeah I-he… his name’s Stephen. He’s the love of my life. I’d do anything for him. Who’s waiting for you?”

Yinsen smiled warmly, as if remembering something comforting. “I have a small family. My wife and child. I know they’re waiting for me.”  
Tony couldn’t help but feel a flutter in his chest. “I’m hoping Stephen waits for me. Maybe we could have a family, like you, when this fiasco blows over.”

“You said he’s the love of your life, yes? I’m sure that means he’s waiting for you, all the same then.”

Tony nodded. “I’m not sure I deserve him.” _Whoops, didn’t mean to say that._

“What makes you think that?” Yinsen sounded genuinely concerned.

“I—” Tony cut himself off. Inhaled. “I uh, I’ve been keeping some secrets from him. And the way we got together wasn’t the most… _conventional._ ” He felt a little sick, knowing how he manipulated Stephen’s life to suit his own purposes. Worse still, however, Tony knew he’d do it all again for the object of his desires.

“Is he happy with you?”

“I think so. He told me he loved me, as if it was as natural a fact as the sun itself.” He smiled at the memory.

“Then I think that’s all the reassurance he can give you, and that you would need. Whatever secrets you hold are to protect him, yes? I think that’s just inevitable in a relationship. Wanting the best for your partners.”

“Yeah, maybe. And I’m gonna be with him once again, and I’ll make sure you reunite with your family. I am a billionaire you know. Transport’s easy.” He added to lighten the mood.

“I’m looking forward to it Mr. Stark.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> Shorter chapter today, but I want to be consistent with my update schedule. Not sure I wrote Yinsen's character as accurately as the canon version of him, but hopefully y'all still enjoyed his and Tony's convos.
> 
> Stay safe, wash your hands, maybe meditate. Happy Saturday! 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)   
>  [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	20. Target

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: Minor character death

Life without Tony hadn't gotten _easier,_ per se, but Stephen found himself becoming used to his security teams’ constant presence, integrating themselves into his life with such fluidity he never thought possible.

His shifts involved Bravo standing by as a pretend assistant, with the name ‘Lewis Staples’ as his cover, for his agent name Bravo, which was most definitely a cover name for something else. Stephen wondered how many identities this man had taken on over the course of his career.

“Really? After C.S. Lewis? Big fan of classical literature?”

Bravo didn’t look amused by Stephen criticism of his fake name. “Says you. You’re one of the few who actually knows what the ’S’ stood for.”

Stephen smirked. “Never said it was a terrible hobby. Tony loves lab binges more than anything. But he's always willing to indulge me in geeking out over my own interests.” Stephen refused to talk about Tony in the past tense. Until there was tangible proof he could never come back, there was still hope.

“I’m sure Mr. Stark would do anything to keep you by his side.” Bravo always sounded so… judgemental of Stephen’s and Tony’s relationship. Like there was something he knew that Stephen didn’t. The latter usually chose to ignore that tone.

“Hopefully that means escaping sooner than later. I’m almost getting used to the fleet of guards constantly hanging around. And no offence, but I’d rather Tony was here than you.”

“I share the same sentiment, Doctor.”

Stephen kept walking along the empty hospital corridor, Bravo at his side. “You’re not that much fun to talk with. With him, it was snark left, right, and centre.”

“Luckily, Dr. Strange, I don’t need to be an expert conversationalist to be able to do my job. When’s your next surg—LOOK OUT!” Bravo yanked Stephen out of the line of fire of a sniper he spotted from the opposite building. Yelling into his watch he alerted the team, keeping a hand on Stephen’s back when the doctor attempted to shift from his place.

“Who-what’s happening?!” Stephen was frantic. “I didn’t see anything, I-we-is everyone okay?!”

“Dr. Strange, I need you to calm down. There’s a potential threat in the building opposite. I’m keeping an eye out, always, and spotted them before shots could be fired. The team is neutralizing them now. However, there may be more enemies preparing to target you, so we will need to escort you back to Stark Tower.”

Stephen felt himself pale. “M-make sure the doctors here are protected. Please.”

“They aren’t our priority right now, but we do know of few names associated with your own. Odds are they won’t be a target. We’re getting up, in 3, 2, 1!”

Stephen felt himself get yanked up into a standing position by Bravo, and marched briskly back from where they came, almost running. All the while he could barely hear the guard mutter rapidly into his watch, over the pounding in his ears.

The drive back was somehow made with all green lights. Stephen wondered how far his team’s influence reached to ensure the safety of whoever they were protecting. “What happens when we get back?” he asked Bravo, who was driving.

“Lockdown until we can reassure your absolute safety. Don’t ask how long it will take, it can range from 24 hours to several days, sometimes a couple of weeks. You are a significant target, do not underestimate what tactics could be used to get to you. Perhaps even the same ones they used to get to Mr. Stark.”

“Hey! He’s not dead, just missing. He’ll come back, I’m sure of it.” _For me,_ Stephen kept in his thoughts.

“We’ll hope so. We’re here, I’ll come around and open your door. Should anything happen, Charlie will step in and escort you inside as quickly as possible. Do not hesitate to run.”

“If a-anything _happens_ to you?! What do you mean?!”

“No time to explain.” Bravo opened the door and ran to the other side of the car. Opening Stephen’s door after a hasty glance at the surrounding buildings, Stephen barely had a foot out of the car before the loud ring of gunshots echoed through the air. Stephen felt something wet splatter his face. After that things seemed to happen in slow motion.

Bravo clutched at his side, glancing down to the ever-growing bloom of red staining his assistant scrubs. He yelled, waving over another figure, Charlie, who clung to Stephen’s arm to rush him inside the penthouse. Stephen could vaguely feel himself pulling back to want to help Bravo, who had fallen to the ground and seemed unnaturally still.

Before he knew it, Stephen was inside on the couch of the penthouse, blanket thrown over his shoulders, another guard who wasn’t Bravo wiping some of the blood off his face with a towel, after some haphazard check to make sure he himself wasn’t injured. “Ch-Charlie?”

“Yes, Dr. Strange?”

Stephen couldn’t remember what he was going to ask. Instead, he reached up and took Charlie’s arm down, from where it was still holding the towel up to his face. “I-I’m going to bed.”

“Of course sir. Will you be alright by yourself? You’re in a very intense state of shock.”

Stephen stood up, the blanket slipping off his shoulders. “I’ll be fine,” he responded airily. He felt as if he was watching his actions from a distance.

Closing the bedroom door, Stephen could see the shadow right underneath the door, indicating Charlie’s standing right outside it. Peeling off his shirt and pants, he got into bed in just his boxers, the energy to change into pyjamas having escaped him. He slipped into a restless sleep under the covers, thoughts of wishing for Tony’s and Bravo’s safety playing on loop in his mind.

Later in the night, Stephen woke up suddenly, and found himself clutching a pillow harshly, the blankets kicked off at some point. Behind him, Stephen felt a dip in the bed, someone running a hand through his hair. Stephen startled, nearly diving off the bed before he turned around.

Turning on the lamp on the bedside table, the figure sat up. “Hey babe. Miss me?”

Stephen blinked, dropping the pillow to rub his eyes. “Tony?!”

Tony smirked from where he sat, albeit tiredly. “The one and only.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> This chapter was not how I expected it to turn out. But I like where it's going. I didn't want to drag out Tony's kidnapping, since y'all already know how it goes, and just wanted to stick with the outline of my own story with these guys.
> 
> There'll be explanations to how some of the events played out in this chapter next week, in case this all seems a bit sudden lol.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this. Comments and kudos always appreciated (also tell me if I'm missing any trigger warnings). 💛
> 
> Also! I'm doing a series of Ironstrange mini-comics for Inktober! You can check them out on my Tumblr or Insta. Love you regardless :)
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)   
>  [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	21. Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: minor character death

It had been a _rough_ few days for Tony, to say the least. The pressure to finish the armour and get the hell out of his captor’s grasp had only skyrocketed, once they had realized he wasn’t doing exactly what they intended him to. The suit was finished, without enough time to protect both himself and Yinsen.

And of course, playing hero, Yinsen went out and got himself killed, to _join his family._ Tony barely had any time to process what just happened before he got attacked again, and went on immediate defence to incapacitate the soldiers. Killing them firsthand, Tony knew this was going to give him nightmares later. However, he didn’t regret anything _nearly_ as much as he expected to.

The daylight was harsher than ever to Tony’s adjusted vision from being inside the cave for so long. Luckily, it wasn’t so disorienting that he lost track of his one goal: to get back to Stephen.

The suit lifted off the ground, sending him into the sky and far out of reach of the Ten Rings. The short-circuiting that happened immediately after? Not something Tony intended to happen.

He crashed in the middle of the desert, his suit coming apart on impact. The momentum that came with the fall caused him to sprawl forward on his hands and knees, before he sank into the sand with relief and exhaustion. His throat was sore from yelling, from going so long without water.

Sitting up, Tony looked around. No enemy in sight. In fact, nothing was in sight. Just endless sand dunes and the very occasional tumbleweed drifting in the wind. Standing again, he brushed off his pants, ignoring the sound of his joints popping. He tied his shirt over his head, for some defence against the harsh sun, and began walking.

It felt like days of trekking, though Tony thought it might have just been a few hours. But the ringing in his ears, coupled with the intense thirst and extreme heat, and the fact _he had no idea where he was_ with only a shred of hope he’d be rescued by this point? Yeah, time dragged on.

At a certain point, he thought he began hallucinating. Hallucinating… sounds. What was that called again? Just… hearing things? It sounded so different from the quiet dusting of sand blowing in the wind, or from his gradually heavier breathing, or his footsteps that disappeared behind him. He strained his ears trying to listen closer. Sounded like a rotor, not too dissimilar to the quiet sounds of the motor newly installed in his chest. He _really_ hoped he wasn’t hearing things.

Looking behind him, Tony gasped in shock. Getting closer was a _helicopter._ He laughed, running towards it. He didn’t get too far, however, dropping to his knees in the sand, raising a peace sign and smiling in relief once he saw the soldiers, donning U.S.A flags on their gear, running toward him, _Rhodey_ among them.

The flight home was a blur. Hasty medical attention, getting a sling for his arm and avoiding the curious gazes of the soldiers distracted by his arc reactor. _Water._ He was only allowed to drink in small servings, something about hyponatremia, or over-hydration, or whatever. He was hooked up to fluids, and allowed to sleep for the remainder of their _13-hour_ flight home.

Home. To Stephen. God, how Tony missed the man. Tony insisted he didn’t need a hospital, much to Rhodey’s dismay. He just wanted to see his own doctor, the one he’d been in love with for what seemed like forever and no time at all. Wanted to make sure Stephen was safe, and happy, and healthy. Wanted to protect the man firsthand.

Getting off the plane (he had been transferred from the helicopter), he was given a change of clothes as per one of his requests. Donning his new suit after the quickest shower of his life, sling in addition, he almost felt normal. Given a ringing phone by some random soldier, Tony answered, thinking it was Pepper or someone calling about ‘urgent matters’ involving the company.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Stark.” _Shit. This isn’t Pepper._ “Recognize my voice?”

Tony paused before speaking again. “Can’t say I do. Perhaps someone from the Ten Rings?”

“They don’t call you a genius for nothing, I suppose,” the man responded snidely. “However, it wasn’t the smartest move of yours to escape without our express permission. And make such a mess while you were doing that. And now, your _boyfriend’s_ going to pay for that.”

Tony’s heart dropped into his stomach. “Wait, we can sort this out, I’ll send something out, I—”

“—It’s too late, Mr. Stark. Your beloved ‘security team’ won’t do much for him.” The call was dropped, leaving Tony listening to the dial tone for all of two seconds before he ran to the nearest car someone was just stepping out of, pushing them over and simultaneously sneaking the gun poking out of their waistband, and stealing the car before taking off.

His phone rang again as he wove through traffic, much faster than the average person even knew a car could go. He answered without looking at the screen. “Hello?”

“Hey, Tony?! What the hell happened, you just took off!” _Rhodey, thank god._

“Rhodes! Stephen’s in danger. I didn’t get to tell you this earlier, but my captors threatened his life if I didn’t go along with whatever they wanted. And well, considering I’m alive and back in the US? Let’s just say they’re more than pissed and willing to follow through on old promises.”

“Aw hell. What do you need me to do?”

This was one of the reasons Tony loved Rhodey. The man really knew how to step up in a crisis, become straight-up and goal-oriented on the turn of a dime. “I need soldiers, combatants who can detect and face snipers. Something tells me these guys wouldn’t attack Stephen from up close. I’m driving there now, call Bravo, he’s head of the security team.”

“Alright, on it. I’ll meet you at the penthouse.”

Tony hung up, and dialled the number of Bravo, having memorized it ages before his trip to Afghanistan. “Hey, Bravo? Your Alpha’s back. Give the phone to Stephen, I need to hear his voice.”

“Mr. Stark. I’m sorry, but the client’s doing a surgery right now, he’s been very adamant on not being interrupted—”

“—I’m sure he’d be willing to make an exception for me, don’t you think? His life is in danger, _give him the phone,_ ” Tony snarled.

“In danger? More than usual? If so, I’ll escort him back to the penthouse, where it’s more secure. We can rendezvous there.”

“Hey, Bravo? What the _hell_ is wrong with you? Give him the phone, we can talk on the drive back.”

“Mr. Stark. I’m going to get Stephen now to drive back. But just know, I know of your… tendencies when it comes to this relationship between you and the doctor.”

Tony was taken aback. “Tendencies? Who the f—”

“—Obsession, control issues, extreme jealousy, volatility, hell, even gaslighting. I’m not sure you behave with the best intentions considering Stephen.”

“What the— why are you on a first-name basis with him? You are a man for _hire,_ I don’t need to hear your bullcrap ‘observations’ of our relationship.”

“Just know this then, Mr. Stark. My and Dr. Strange’s affiliation won’t end with your arrival. As his protection detail for such a long time, I’ve learned that it’s you he needs protection from, more than anything.” The call went silent for a second. “Stephen’s just exited his surgery, we’ll be leaving now.”

_What the hell? Paying top-dollar for a security team and this is the joke you receive? Obsession? Call it protection. And love. And devotion. What on earth would Bravo know about that shit, he spends his days as a glorified nanny. Christ._

The drive dragged on, emotions running through Tony like the darkest storm. Suspicion, and hatred, and jealousy, and anticipation, topped with adrenaline and probably some form of PTSD.

He received an alert from Rhodey, the security team at the hospital spotting some sniper from an opposing building. While they were working to neutralize that threat, Stephen was being escorted back, by none other than _Bravo_ and the third- and fourth-in-command, Charlie and Delta, the last two in a separate car.

That could work. Tony needed Bravo isolated. For just a little chat. Before dealing with the Ten Rings threat.

Getting out of his car about a block away from Stark Tower, Tony sprinted down the street, keeping his head down in hopes of not getting too much attention. Gripping the gun still shoved hastily in his front pocket, he made it to the front sidewalk of the skyscraper before hearing gunshots.

Seeing the security team shooting at some unknown figure in one of the surrounding buildings, Tony used that moment of distraction to confront Bravo. Standing not 50 yards from where the guard was standing, Tony called out. Bravo glanced over before rushing to open the door for Stephen, probably using the doctor as protection against Tony. _Won’t do much for you._ Tony cocked the gun and shot the man once. Then again.

Bravo looked down at his chest in disbelief for all of two seconds before calling over Charlie, yelling to get Stephen away from Stark. He collapsed on the ground, before Charlie worked to pull out Stephen from where he sat inside the car, in shock. _Probably didn’t see me then,_ Tony thought.

A fleeting wave of jealousy passed through Tony’s mind as he observed Stephen trying to get to the body as Charlie urged him inside. However, there was now another pressing matter to deal with. The rest of the Ten Rings assassins.

Using Rhodey’s intel (the soldiers hadn’t gotten there fast enough to notice Bravo’s death was _caused_ by Tony, thinking it was just another hit by Tony’s ex-captors), Tony spent a good few hours tracking down his targets. Knowing Stephen was safe in the penthouse was the only thing keeping him going, knowing he’d be able to see the doctor in so little time. _So close, yet so far._

Once he’d made sure six times over Stephen was no longer under threat, Tony suddenly felt exhausted. He threw his gun into a random storm gutter before trudging back through the streets to the tower.

In the shiny reflection of the elevator door, he first noticed how he looks. Tousled, greasy hair, blood dotting his dress shirt, tired bags under his eyes, this was not how he pictured himself in his grand reunion with Stephen. Deciding this just wouldn’t do, Tony took a shower in one of the guest bathrooms, not wanting to wake up his love.

He dressed in a set of his own pyjamas, this proving to be a struggle with the sling. Finally achieving this, he made his way to his own floor.

Exiting the elevator, he saw Charlie standing in front of the bedroom door, pointing a gun towards Tony, presumably thinking anyone coming in the penthouse was a threat.

“At ease, soldier.” Tony’s voice was tired, almost gruff.

Charlie seemed shocked at his arrival. “Mr. Stark, sir. My apologies. Dr. Strange is inside, resting.”

“That’ll be all then, Charlie. Dismissed,” Tony ordered, implicitly telling Charlie to leave the penthouse entirely, just before heading to the bedroom.

Charlie nodded before walking to the elevator. Just before exiting, he paused. “Mr. Stark? I was just wondering, is there any update on Bravo?”

Tony cleared his throat, feigning sorrow. “I’m sorry to say this, but he didn’t make it. My condolences.”

Charlie swallowed. “Mr. Stark,” he answered promptly before straightening his posture and stepping into the elevator.

Tony sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. What he did was _necessary,_ and no baby-faced operatives could convince him otherwise.

Walking into the dark bedroom, Tony saw Stephen sleeping not all that peacefully. Tightly clutching a pillow, faint whimpers could be heard coming from the doctor’s pressed lips.

“Steph? Babe?” Tony whispered. He went to lay beside Stephen, loving how the doctor still kept to one side of the bed as if expecting Tony’s return at any moment.

Tony began smoothing down the doctor’s hair with his good hand, hoping this would either wake the man without startling him, or ease him back into a resting state. It ended up being the former.

Almost comically, Stephen tensed just before tumbling out of bed, standing there in just his boxers. Watching confusedly for all of two seconds, he spoke. “Tony?”

_Oh, how I’d missed that voice._ Tony smiled. “The one and only.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> HOLY FRIJOLES. This was a long chapter. While technically the plot hasn't advanced too much since the last chapter, this definitely worked to fill in some of the blanks, so we can move on with the craziness this story is.
> 
> I'll miss Bravo. I got attached for literally no reason.
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this. I do hope you had just as much fun reading it. Stay safe, wash your hands. 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)   
>  [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	22. A Grand Reunion

_Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to startle him like this,_ Tony thought, watching his boyfriend evenly while still sitting on his side of the bed.

Stephen had said exactly one word, Tony’s name as a question, since waking up and tumbling out of bed. For the next ten minutes, he had simply stood there and stared, clutching himself as if to ward against the cold (the room was actually a perfect temperature, thanks to Tony’s customized thermostats installed throughout the penthouse).

There was complete silence, save the sound of quiet rain coming from outside.

His expression was blank, for the most part. The most Tony could gather was Stephen seemed to be assessing the situation, running the math over in his head, trying to come to some conclusion of _how_ Tony was suddenly back. Maybe in denial of the position they were in currently.

Seeing Stephen’s stance wasn’t going to change anytime soon, Tony took the first step. “…Babe?”

“H-how are you here?” Stephen’s response was barely a whisper, but it was better than nothing.

“It’s a long story. We can talk about it over breakfast in the morning, we haven’t done that in a while,” Tony said soothingly.

“You’re really here.” Stephen moved to sit on the bed in front of Tony, apparently uncaring of his less-than-decent appearance (not that Tony was complaining). He put his hands on both sides of Tony’s face, leaning in. “It’s really you.”

“Yep, it’s really me. Not that I blame you for thinking I’m a dream, I know I’m part of your _wildest_ fantasies,” Tony teased, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere.

Stephen smiled widely at that, his eyes crinkling, and laughed almost maniacally. He slung his arms around Tony’s neck, giggling in undeniable relief. “It’s really you, you’re back, you’re _safe,_ ” he whispered.

Tony reached around Stephen with his one good arm. “Yeah Steph. I’m here.”

At some point however, the tension in Stephen gave way to tears rather than laughter. His uncontrollable giggles gave way to heaving sobs. His reassurances that Tony was okay gave way to unintelligible expressions of sorrow.

Tony could feel a wet spot on his shoulder from where Stephen’s tears were falling. Could start to feel the weight of the last 48 hours weighing down on him. His own tears began to fall down his face, though they weren’t nearly as persistent as his boyfriend’s.

When Stephen eventually calmed down, he sniffed and sat back, smiling at Tony with nothing short of gratitude. Even with his redder nose and teary eyes, Tony thought Stephen’s face at this moment was one of the most beautiful versions of the man he’d ever seen.

Stephen laughed lightly, wiping at his eyes. “I’ve really made a mess of our grand reunion, haven’t I?”

Tony grinned. “Not at all. We’re together now, that’s what matters.” He placed a hand on Stephen’s shoulder, reassuring the both of them this was real.

Stephen nodded, and leaned forward to kiss Tony, and _oh God it’s been too long._ Tony’s mind was essentially fireworks by this point. He just wanted Stephen in that moment more than he’d ever wanted before. He inhaled, smelling antiseptic and cheap coffee on the doctor, their lips still locked.

Too soon, Stephen pulled back. “We should sleep.”

“Not in the mood for other things?” Tony waggled his eyes suggestively.

Stephen smiled wryly in that way he did sometimes. “I can tell you’re exhausted, and in all honestly so am I. We have time for that later.”

Tony sighed dramatically. “I suppose.” He collapsed back on the bed, careful of his arm still in the sling. He reached out with his other arm as an invitation to cuddle. Stephen took it without hesitation, moving into Tony’s space as he lay down.

“Is this okay?” Stephen asked. _Probably noticed the arc reactor, it is a glowing blue circle in the middle of my chest, after all._

“It’s more than okay. Goodnight Stephen.”

The doctor swallowed hearing his full name from the mechanic. Leaning closer, he spoke. “Goodnight, Tony.”

Tony waited until his boyfriend’s breathing finally evened out, holding him close the entire time. While he was _exhausted,_ he knew there was no way he could sleep tonight. His mind was too rushed, frantic, paranoid. His thoughts ran in a million different directions.

Stephen shifted for a second, murmuring as he cuddled even closer to Tony. _Adorable,_ Tony thought, smoothing back the doctor’s hair to both calm him and himself down.

What Tony wanted was a coffee, and to pore over the suit plans that got him out of the cave in Afghanistan. He knew they could be improved by a landslide, especially now that he wasn’t constantly in danger ( _well, more than usual_ ), and had his state-of-the-art lab and his significant other by his side.

_How the hell am I going to explain this to Stephen?_ Tony sunk back into his pillow, tilting his head ever so slightly to watch him. Mulling over the possibilities, he decided everything that happened in the cave was fine to talk about, minus how many people he probably killed escaping.

Wandering the desert, getting found, fine. Maybe not the turn of events to stop the Ten Rings himself (with the help of the remainder of Stephen’s security team).

_Yikes. The security team._ Tony winced thinking about Stephen yelling at him over surveillance. _But he did seem pretty upset about Bravo, maybe they grew on him?_

Either way, Tony wasn’t going to regret his decision for keeping Stephen under watch. Clearly it became a necessity in the last… twenty-four hours.

Morning finally came, Stephen sticking the whole time to Tony’s side like glue. There was a dreary grey sky left by the rain from the night before. It was probably going to rain at some point.

An alarm coming from Stephen’s phone startled Tony out of his musings. Feeling the full-body flinch, Stephen woke up suddenly, slowly unwrapping from Tony in a warm sleepy haze to hit the stop on the alarm (he was never one for the Snooze button).

Leaning back into Tony’s space, the doctor seemed unaware of what was happening, perfectly happy to continue dozing into the day.

“Hey doc,” Tony whispered, stroking the man’s shoulder.

“Hello Anthony,” he responded automatically, his baritone voice gruffer with sleep. His eyes shot open, and the doctor bolted upright, the widest smile on his face. “Tony!”

Tony sat up, albeit more slowly because of the sling, but was just as excited to begin the rest of their lives together. “Let’s go get dressed? You did promise you’d look all pretty for me when I got back, but I’ll forgive you if you take today off.”

“Of course I will. Let me just call in,” Stephen answered, reaching for his phone on his nightstand. Supposedly having his boss’s number on speed-dial, the ring tone could be heard soon enough, before a faint ‘hello?’ coming from the other side of the line.

“Hello Dr. Garcia. I’m sorry for the late notice, but I need today off, is that alright?” A pause. “Oh, thank you so much. Mm hm. Thank you. Yes. Have a good day.”

Stephen looked back at Tony after putting the phone away. “Well, that went smoother than usual. Garcia’s usually lenient with days off, but he likes notices well in advance. You didn’t have any influence there, right?”

Tony shook his head. “None at all honey.” _Yes. I’m buying Garcia a car._

Stephen dressed in sweats and a hoodie, declaring today to be a cozy day in. Tony remained in his pyjamas. He was clean, and didn’t feel it necessary to struggle even more with the sling to get into _alternate_ comfortable clothing.

In the kitchen, Stephen moved with such grace to flick on the coffee maker before reaching into the fridge for ingredients. “I’m making you pancakes. My cooking has _drastically_ improved since the hospital decided to limit my hours since you… since you’ve been gone.”

He smiled to himself for a second. “Yes, I caught that Tony, don’t say anything. Since You’ve Been Gone, Kelly Clarkson, Breakaway, 2004.”

Tony grinned once more at Stephen’s showcasing of his infinite knowledge. “Wasn’t going to say anything darling.”

Stephen narrowed his eyes at the engineer before continuing the task at hand. The latter simply smiled, happy to watch the whole process without another word.

The interesting thing was Tony _could_ tell how much Stephen had improved. The surgeon seemed so much more comfortable in the kitchen than he had three months ago. He had the feeling Stephen was being too modest about his cooking abilities.

While Tony would be willing to cook for the doctor any day, what’s more intimate than eating a home cooked meal made by your significant other?

_Home cooked. Home._ This string of thoughts led Tony to believe Stephen probably thought of the penthouse as a home by this point, seeing as the security team would have limited the time at the doctor’s own apartment.

Before the engineer knew it, there was a plate of small pancakes in front of him, blueberries and raspberries adorning the edges of the plate, along with a mug of steaming black coffee, and his boyfriend awaiting his opinion. “I know you can flip normal sized pancakes, but well, I haven’t quite acquired that skill set yet. So, mini pancakes,” Stephen prompted.

“This looks great Steph, thanks. Do we have syrup?” The bottle was placed in front of him before he finished speaking. Tony dug in, and wasn’t surprised the meal turned out to be excellent.

Seeing Stephen was about to do dishes, Tony stopped him. “Honey, these are so great, you should eat them while they’re hot. Plus, it’s been forever since we’ve shared a meal.”

Stephen smiled wryly, looking back at Tony from where he was turned around at the sink. “Alright.”

The rest of their breakfast was eaten in a comfortable silence, both men pondering what the rest of the day would bring them.

When Stephen got up first to begin cleaning up for the both of them, Tony took his wrist. “We’ll do that later, let’s go sit down.”

The doctor swallowed. “Alright.”

Tony led them to the too-big couch in the living room, sitting down and pulling Stephen to lean against him. Stephen grabbed a blanket already on the couch and spread it over them, leaning back against Tony to get comfortable.

Stephen spoke first. “Okay. Talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well!
> 
> HAPPY HALLOWEEN YAY!! I'm going to dress as a pineapple and watch four horror comedies. Do y'all have any plans for today?
> 
> Okay, chapter-related notes: I hope I did the reunion scene justice. Stephen being frozen there for 10 minutes was like, 95% influenced by that scene of Sherlock getting asked to be John's best man in The Sign of Three (the best episode of Sherlock, fight me).
> 
> I don't really have anything else to say. Don't trick-or-treat, don't hand out candy, SOCIAL DISTANCE. I know Halloween is a w e s o m e, but celebrating it 'properly' isn't worth extending quarantine by another 6 months or whatever.
> 
> Wash your hands. Stay safe! Kudos and comments always appreciated. Love y'all. 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)   
>  [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	23. Exposition

Staring ahead, feeling Stephen’s head on his shoulder, Tony shifted through his thoughts, trying to find a good place to start. _Where do you even begin, talking about something like this?_

Swallowing, he decided to just dive in headfirst, and see where that took him. “Well, you know the start. On the way back from a weapons demonstration in Afghanistan, the humvee was ambushed, and the soldiers protecting me were shot not 5 feet from where I stood. They didn’t have a _chance._ ”

He could feel Stephen tense up, knowing the doctor didn’t do well with the deaths of _anyone,_ regardless of where they came from, or what their intentions were. Pacifist indeed. Tony continued. “I didn’t make it too far before another bomb hit, this time lodging shrapnel in my chest. I passed out. Next thing I knew, I woke up in a cave, and there was a car battery attached to my chest.”

“Another doctor was there with me, also held hostage. You would have liked him, his name was Yinsen.”

Stephen spoke quietly. “Was?”

Tony kissed the crown of the doctor’s head in an attempt to offer comfort. “Yeah. He… sacrificed himself, to help get me out of there. I _swear,_ the plan was for both of us to get out. But, he said he was going to join his family.”

“How’d you get out?”

Tony paused, shifting so Stephen could sit up and face him. “Well, you’ve seen the light from my chest.” Slowly lifting up his shirt, Tony avoided eye contact as his boyfriend stared at his chest. “Instead of a car battery, I now have a miniaturized arc reactor, keeping the shrapnel from entering my heart. Major power source.”

Stephen stared a little longer. Then reached out, hovering his hand above the plate. Glancing at Tony for permission, he lay his hand directly on the machine. Whispering to himself, though not without Tony noticing, he said “I could have done better.”

Tony smiled faintly. “I’m sure.” Dragging his shirt back down, he shifted closer to Stephen, their new position ending with them holding the other’s hand tightly.

“With this arc reactor as a power source, I made myself a suit, an armour. Using the materials my captors wanted me to use to make a missile instead… I thought of you while I was down there you know. I know I could have taken the easy way out. Just make the weapon and potentially get out like that. But I knew I couldn’t forgive myself, and you probably couldn’t forgive me, if I followed through for selfish reasons.”

Stephen inhaled. “I would have forgiven you in a heartbeat. You were under duress, there’s so little chance you would have made it out even if you followed through with what they wanted. But I’m glad you didn’t. And I’m glad you’re here now. Safe.”

Tony looked in Stephen’s eyes in shock. _He would have forgiven me._ The thought left a warm feeling in his chest. “I’m glad I’m here too, babe.”

When nothing more was said on Stephen’s part, Tony spoke again. “I destroyed everything they had before taking off. The suit didn’t last too long. I crash-landed in the middle of the desert. Walked around for… I don’t know how long. But by some miracle, Rhodey and the team found me. And now I’m here.”

“Hm, I’ve become closer with Rhodes while you were gone. I’ve been harassing him more than anything for news about you getting back.”

Tony laughed. “Don’t make me jealous, my boyfriend and best friend spending more time together than I do with either of them.” In all honesty, the idea of that seemed _great_. His world coming together. Though he would like to be included.

“Nah, you’re the only one for me. Rhodes can’t handle my arrogance.”

Tony leaned in for a kiss. “Hmm, luckily I can handle it _just fine._ ” Stephen laughed as Tony began attacking the doctor’s neck with his lips.

Stephen tensed up for a second however, enough to break Tony out of his playful mood. Tony sat back. “What’s up?”

The doctor had a sudden pained look in his eyes. “Your security team. You forgot that detail.”

Oh. “They proved to be necessary, didn’t they?”

“That doesn’t _matter,_ Tony. You had a team tailing me for _three months,_ and that could have been _much_ longer should you not have come back. You didn’t ask my permission, hell, we never even spoke about that being a _possibility._ What did we say about communication? About independence?”

“I know you’re upset, babe. But imagine what could have happened if they weren’t here. I’ve seen terrible things happen to people even _more_ powerful than I am. And to those they love. And I _can’t_ lose you. It’s not an option. And I don’t want even the possibility of it to reach the surface.”

Before Stephen could talk again, Tony continued. “Please trust that I know more about this shit than you do. It’s not the same as a normal relationship, we’re required to be a little closer than most. And I’m sorry, but your life could never be the same after dating someone like me.”

“I get it, Tony. Trust _me_ on that. But in order to be _closer,_ we need to be on the same page. I might have agreed to a security team then, and you wouldn’t have had to go behind my back. I _do_ trust you, but I need you to trust me. And to actually _listen._ I’m listening to you. Why can’t you do the same?”

Tony stared. _He trusts me._ “I am listening. I was— I will. I’m sorry. I just need you to be safe.”

“I’m safe. You’re here. It’s okay. It _will be_ okay.” Stephen leaned against Tony once more, listening to the quiet hum of the arc reactor.

After some silence, Stephen spoke again, his voice broken. “I saw a man get shot yesterday. It was Bravo. You know him. Knew him.”

“I’m sorry.” Tony _was_ sorry Stephen had to see that. He would have preferred to leave the doctor with as little trauma as necessary. But he wasn’t sorry for killing Bravo. The guard was an obstacle, and Tony overcame it. With very little backlash, much to his delight. “I did know him. He was strong. Willing to do what was necessary.” Tony guessed they had that in common.

“He was kind. A bit stuck-up, but I think I bring that out in people.” Stephen sniffed.

“Not in me. You only bring out the good in me.”

“I’m not sure he liked you, to be honest. He got all cryptic whenever I talked about you coming back.”

“I’m not that likeable, let’s be real.” Tony hoped Bravo hadn’t gotten in Stephen’s head too much.

“You are. You’re not just likeable, you’re lovable.” The doctor paused. “I’ll miss him. We were living together 24/7 for three months, you know.”

“Yeah. I’m glad you had him while I was gone.” The tension in Tony’s mind was too much. “I’m exhausted,” he chose to say, instead of questioning Stephen’s faithfulness as a gut reaction.

“Me too. Let’s go to bed. _To sleep,_ ” Stephen added, seeing Tony’s hopeful expression. “You’re not up for any of that right now.”

“Oh, I’m sure I can handle it.” _Damn, Stephen, I just want to rail you into the mattress, is it so hard?_

Stephen surveyed Tony a moment longer. He sighed. “Alright. One round. And then a _very_ long nap. Deal?”

“Didn’t realize sex was such a _chore_ for you Stephie,” Tony snarked playfully.

“Don’t be a drama queen Tones,” Stephen responded, pulling the engineer up into a heated kiss, the two men making their way to the bedroom. “I just want you to get better.”

Tony smiled against the other man’s lips. “I’m already getting there. I just need you.”

“And I you,” Stephen whispered, the bedroom door closing behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> This chapter was basically a retelling of the angst-fest we all know and love, and then ended with Tony being ridonculously horny for Stephen (what's new).
> 
> Erhm. Let me know what you think. Thanks for reading. 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)   
>  [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	24. Devotion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: death threats, MILD smut

Tony blinked awake slowly, inhaling deeply before exhaling with a sigh. The room was dimly lit, despite him knowing it wasn’t even noon. Had their morning really gone by in such a blur of events?

The talk between Stephen and him went better than Tony expected, in all honesty. Definitely _ended_ better than how he expected it to. Eyes wandering over pale, freckled shoulders, Tony reached a hand out to stroke down the doctor’s spine, with no intention of actually waking him up. A quiet exhale was his reward, the taller man moving in closer to Tony’s form.

While he would have loved to stay for longer, there was something Tony needed to do before relaxing again. Sitting up slowly so as not to make a sound, he got out of bed, bare feet landing softly on the floor. He stretched, and walked out to the guest room, dressing in a spare button-down shirt and pair of black slacks he found in the closet.

Seeing the dishes in the kitchen sink, Tony requested a maid come up to take care of that, knowing his boyfriend could do with the break, and it wasn’t as if the billionaire couldn’t afford the extra help.

Taking the elevator down to a floor he knew Stephen would never step foot on, Tony walked out, nodding to one of the men standing guard. Walking into what was similar to an average apartment (smaller compared to Tony’s penthouse), he sat down on a stool in the kitchen, a very familiar woman sitting on the couch not six feet from him. “Hello Christine.”

Christine glared at him, feet tucked under her, arms linked across the back of the couch she occupied. “Mr. Stark. You’re alive, I see.”

“Much to your dismay, I assume.”

“Oh, I took your _signs of life_ as much more than just ‘dismay.’ But, keep a woman captive for 3 months, well, you can’t expect much of a five-star review.”

“You wound me, Palmer. But, news flash, this is on _you._ I gave you explicit instructions and a great job out of state, and what do you do? You squander my generosity for _what_?”

Christine stood up in a flash. “Your ‘generosity?’ You mean your easy-coming insults and threats and, oh, how about this, keeping me here _against my will_?!”

Tony stood up, towering over his captive, with the air of tense nonchalance. “Technically, you’re living in a place that’s prime real estate. Stark Tower? _Definitely_ beats your flat, or even Stephen’s penthouse. And definitely beats being left for dead in some back-alley, so tortured and maimed no one could even _begin_ to identify you.”

She took a step back, looking at Tony with fear reflected in teary-eyes. “You are a _monster,_ ” she whispered. Swallowing, she straightened her shoulders, and walked right back up to the engineer. “You want to know why I ‘squandered your generosity?’ Because I _love_ Stephen, and I’m _terrified_ for him. I’m _terrified_ of you. I’m more aware of your _capacity_ for cruelty than _anyone,_ unless you’ve done this before.”

Tony backed away, then paced around her like a shark circling its prey. “You know _nothing_ about me. And you know _nothing_ of loving Stephen. I’ve been _perfect_ for him. I am sympathetic to your special… desires for the man, in fact, you’re one of the only rational beings I’ve known to actually recognize him as _perfect,_ but that also means you’re one of the only obstacles between me and him. I thought I had _actually_ gotten rid of you for good, but then you pull your little _stunt_ while I was away, and it looks like you can’t be trusted.”

He paused. Stood directly in front of Christine once more, before sitting back down on the stool. “So what are we to do with this?”

She stared back at him, fire burning in her expression. “I don’t know, what _do_ we do with this, _Mr. Stark_?” she sneered.

“I could always kill you, you know. Make it a one-and-done kind of thing. I’d by Stephen’s side the whole time he’s grieving. And I’m always looking for excuses to get even closer to him.” Tony was _this_ close to throttling Christine himself. How on _earth_ had Stephen put up with her for this long? She was _infuriating_ when she wanted to be. Tony could only come to the conclusion that his boyfriend was a literal angel, and if he could put up with Christine, he could put up with anyone (Tony included, to the engineer’s great pleasure).

“So then why don’t you, Tony?” Christine sounded almost calm, facing her potential end. When Tony didn’t respond, she continued. “You know exactly why. You’re just hesitant to say anything, because it pertains to your place in Stephen’s life. It’s because I am _important_ to him. And as much as you hate me, you know it’d be better for him to think me a bastard than dead. Especially if I’m found killed under such mysterious circumstances. Might even feature you painted as a suspect.”

Tony scoffed. “I can _assure_ you, Doctor Palmer, I would be the last person considered to be a suspect. I understand death, I understand grief. I know how people think, and what they need to feel comfort after trauma. And thus, I’d know how to play people _perfectly_ so if anything, you’d be hated more than anyone, even _dead._ ”

While Tony was expecting Christine to fold, she surprised him. Her eyes sparked with realization, a manic grin appearing on her face. “So _that’s_ how you do things then, isn’t it? I bet you’ve played Stephen like a _fiddle,_ and everyone else for that matter. I’ve heard through the grapevine his closest confidant, ‘Beta’ or something like that, was killed, his actual murderer having disappeared without a trace. Know anything about that?”

_Have to tighten up security,_ Tony thought. Christine shouldn’t have known about any of that. Shouldn’t get to know anything about Stephen. He noticed the doctor awaiting an answer, however, and cleared his throat. “He was called ‘Bravo,’ actually, and he was shot by one of the Ten Rings members while protecting Stephen.”

“Got too close to Stephen, and _you_ pulled the trigger.”

“I won’t sit here and listen to these accusations, Palmer. I’m asking for your cooperation. You’re right, even gone you’re important to Steph. And I’d rather not hurt him, much as I’d like to hurt you. So, I’m asking once again, what will we do with this?”

“I don’t _know,_ ” Christine snapped. “I have nothing to do with the chaos you’ve gotten _yourself_ into, as much as you’d like to blame me for caring about Stephen’s safety.”

Tony’s eyes snapped up to Christine’s at that point. “His _safety,_ you said? Well, he’s safe as anything when he’s with me. But, should our life together be ‘interrupted,’ say by an insane ex-girlfriend, well, I can’t say I could protect him from everything. It’d be tragic. I’d have to grieve him, and see his past lover behind bars for the rest of her life. You get that, don’t you?”

The doctor swallowed. “You’ve done this before, you know. Threatened his life as a way of getting rid of me. When you proposed I leave in the first place. Break up with him.”

“And I meant it then, I mean it now. He’s as good as dead if he’s not _mine,_ ” Tony snarled.

“He’s his own person, Stark. He has never belonged to anyone, not even me,” she argued.

“I beg to differ. He says he’s mine, as I’m his, _constantly._ Maybe you two just didn’t have that same… ‘spark,’ that me and Steph have.”

“Oh yeah? How many times has he said that unprompted? Because for as long as I’ve known him, which has been since _med school,_ he’s never really loved that ‘possessive’ aspect of relationships that have been so romanticized by crazies like you.”

Tony thought. Stephen had shown his love in other ways, unprompted. And for now, that’d work for Tony. They’d work up to what the engineer wanted eventually. “He loves me. I don’t need your knowledge of my boyfriend to prove that. I’ll let you go by the end of the week. And if I hear a _whisper_ of your presence by Stephen again, he will _hurt,_ that I can guarantee.”

Christine inhaled, seeing there was no way to get through to the psycho that was the world-renowned billionaire Tony Stark. _Damn rich people,_ she thought. Stiffly nodding, it ended the conversation roughly, and Tony left ‘her’ apartment. Only then did she let herself cry, tears welling up and spilling over, feeling hopeless and worried for Stephen’s safety.

When Tony closed Christine’s door behind him, he made his way back up to his floor, dressing down into just pyjama pants before crawling back into bed, trying not to jostle his doctor awake. While his conversation with the other doctor had only been an hour, it felt like one of those board meetings that dragged on for hours on end. Tony sighed, stared up at the ceiling.

He glanced at his boyfriend, sleeping on his back, peacefully unaware of the complications behind their relationship. Tony knew they loved each other, despite everything, and that was what mattered. He shifted over, sitting up slightly, and kissed the doctor’s bicep, working his way up to the doctor’s neck, then cheek, nose, and finally lips.

Stephen chuckled lowly, waking in increments. His eyes blinked open, bleary with sleep but bright with mischief. “Hello my love,” he mumbled against Tony’s lips.

“Hello, my everything,” Tony said, before ducking down to gnaw on the man’s neck playfully. He shifted until he was fully straddling the doctor, similar to how they were positioned not three hours before. Tony revelled in Stephen’s near-purring, the taller man’s arms steadying the engineer by holding him at the waist. “You can go a little further than the waist with your hands, you know.”

“Hmm, I thought that was your job,” Stephen teased, even as his hands slipped lower underneath the waistband to cup Tony’s ass. Tony groaned, kissing the man underneath him passionately.

Stephen moaned into the kiss, his knees coming up to block in the man on top of him. He was currently _very_ naked, as compared to the latter. “Why’d you get dressed?” he complained.

Tony laughed at the doctor’s displeasure. “Had to check some quick work stuff—I _swear_ it only took an hour, and it was necessary, or Pepper would have killed me!” he quickly explained, seeing Stephen’s unimpressed look.

“Fine, but I need you, _now,_ ” Stephen grumbled. He showed his need _very_ clearly in the next moment, taking one of Tony’s hands to palm his own growing hardness.

Feeling spurred on, Tony grinned. “I thought you said only one round,” he pointed out, despite being fully willing to go for _at least_ two more.

“That was earlier. You’re better now,” Stephen stated breathlessly, yanking Tony back down to him. The latter could only moan into the doctor’s mouth, as the heat between them increased, and their bodies became one.

_This is how it should always be_ , Tony thought, looking down at his Stephen, flushed with pleasure and begging Tony to move faster. They reached their peaks together, and after a quick clean-up, they lay down together for a little while longer, before getting up for a late lunch.

Stephen was once again cooking for the two of them, eager to show his learned skills to Tony. He ended up making grilled salmon with olive oil and some kind of seasoning, the side being broccoli mac-and-cheese, which Tony thought sounded terrible until he actually tried it. Not that he doubted his boyfriend for a second, but he was always a little skeptical of normal foods with vegetables added unnecessarily. In this case, the broccoli actually offered a welcome crunch to the pasta.

They had their lunch sitting in front of the television, watching some random Disney movie but mostly watching each other. It still seemed surreal to have each other once more.

Their evening was quiet, almost normal compared to their especially lethargic day. Stephen pulled out a book, cuddling next to Tony to read about yet another surgery technique in development, while Tony did his own experimentation via his laptop.

Instead of another weapon, however, this time, he had better ideas. Of a suit of armour, to protect himself and Stephen. He’d already made a rough version while in Afghanistan. But here, in his lab and with his wonderful boyfriend? Oh, _anything_ was possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> First off, testing the waters for writing smut! I know it wasn't too explicit, but seeing as that's my first attempt at writing anything even close to a sex scene? I think it's not bad.
> 
> We've got a heated conversation between Tony and Christine (the snark is there, but the power imbalances RUIN everything. Imagine what the conflicts will be like between Tony and Stephen! Lots of fun).
> 
> Their dinner, the broccoli mac and cheese with salmon? One of my favourite forking dinners ever. Recipe for [Broccoli Mac and Cheese](https://damndelicious.net/2017/12/28/creamy-broccoli-mac-and-cheese/)
> 
> Do I have anything else to say? The pandemic is still happening. So wash your hands. Stay safe, Happy Diwali to those who celebrate it. 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)   
>  [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	25. Meant to Be

The schematics of the new suit were already written out, parts accounted for, the physics of it worked out in complex equations by Tony’s design. Staring at the blueprints spread over the desk, he nodded once before getting to work.

Of course, Stephen was only _half_ aware of what Tony was actually making. While he told Stephen the truth of how he escaped, using a suit of armour he built, there was actually no follow-up on how Tony’s company would progress from that point. Of course he was no longer going to be supplying weapons to foreign sources, but he’d continue manufacturing them for his own purposes. It’s his company, who’d stop him?

He’d begin to invest in clean energy as well, to appease those who’d criticize him for not ‘learning from his mistakes.’ That the very danger he got into was of his company’s design. What the faceless masses failed to _understand,_ however, was that weapons got him out of there. Once again, thinking of what his father said, ‘Peace means having a bigger stick than the other guy.’ And that turned out to be all too true. The _suit_ is the bigger stick.

First and foremost, however, he needed to update the thing in his chest that was keeping him alive. It was essentially made by cavemen ( _literally_ ), and now, it was easier to make a better version, having the infinite resources at his disposal, and of course, help.

“Stephen, honey?”

The doctor looked up from where he was lounging on a couch Tony had put in the lab for him. His expression became skeptical seeing the spark in the engineer’s eyes. “You only call me honey when you’ve done something wrong, or you’re trying to butter me up.”

Tony grinned. “It’s just for the second reason this time. I need a favour. Come over here.”

Stephen sighed, getting off the couch dramatically and putting his laptop on the accompanying side table before making his way over to Tony, who was already laying down on a chair similar to that of a patient bed, inclined at an angle. “Are we doing foreplay? What’s happening?” Stephen inquired.

Tony raised an eyebrow at him, smiling easily. “Not at this _exact_ moment, but if that’s something you’re into, we can try it out later. You have all this time off after all.” What he was referring to was that Stephen, light of his life and reason for living, decided to take a month off after Tony’s getting back to the US, to home. They were about halfway through the extended vacation.

“Hm, that I do,” the doctor mumbled, analyzing Tony’s chest for the umpteenth time.

Tony took his wrist. “Hey, it’s okay. I just need you to switch out the device for me, it’s kind of hard for me to do by myself.” He held out the new reactor which Stephen almost immediately recoiled from, pulling his wrist from Tony’s grasp.

“I am a _neurosurgeon,_ Tony, or did you forget? I’m nowhere close to engineering, or whatever the _hell_ this is, I’m not even specialized in dealing with the heart!” Stephen protested.

Tony sat up, grabbing both of Stephen’s elbows and pulling him out of his panic. “Hey, _honey,_ relax. Just because you don’t know everything about this doesn’t mean I don’t. I’ve run and rerun the calculations, this will _work._ And I have full faith in your capability to do this. I’ll guide you through it.”

Stephen looked back up at him, eyes narrowed. “If you die, I will kill you.”

Tony leaned back in the chair, holding out the device once more for Stephen to take. “Square deal.”

At a certain point, a wire did touch the wall of the machine, triggering a little case of cardiac arrest, before Stephen fixed it and fit the new arc reactor in. By the end of the whole ordeal, Stephen’s eyes were wide, his hands shaking. They had never done that before.

Backing away from Tony, Stephen looked at him in horror. “Never… ask me to do something like that again. I swear—” His voice broke.

Tony got up immediately, going to hold his boyfriend tightly. “I’m sorry, Steph. I just… I don’t have anyone else. You’re all I’ve got.”

Stephen held him back, curling into Tony’s smaller form. “You’re all I have too. But you need to _stop_ being so reckless with your life. You’re here for me too, aren’t you?”

Tony leaned back, appalled that Stephen would even feel the need to answer the question. “Yes, I’m here for you, _Stephen._ I’m not _trying_ to risk my life here. I’m doing this for _you._ ”

“That’s rich, Tony.” Stephen shrugged out of his hold. “I don’t need the world from you, Tony. I just need you. And you’re trying to give me things I don’t need, killing yourself in the process!”

“I’m not trying to _kill myself,_ Stephen! I’m protecting myself. And you. And I’m sorry, if this all got a little too crazy for you, but well, since Afghanistan, this is how it’s going to be.”

“It’s not too much for me, Tony. You’re too much. You need to… take a step back. Breathe. I’m here. You’re here. It will be _okay._ ”

“But what if it won’t be! I’m preparing for the worst, Stephen, and I think you should be too.”

Stephen flinched back. Tony stepped forward to hold his hand once more, craving the contact. “I love you, Steph. And I’ve seen too many terrible things that could take you away from me.”

“You are _traumatized,_ Tony. You’re blowing things out of proportion. I understand your fears, I’m scared of losing you too.” The doctor exhaled, smoothing over Tony’s hand with his thumb. “Let me help you. I can help you with anything you want, but nothing that could kill you in the process.”

“Really?” Tony looked up into worried pale blue eyes, feeling slightly skeptical about Stephen’s sudden change of heart.

The doctor seemed to have read his mind, sighing once again. “I’m not… trying to alienate you, I swear. I just… want you to take better care of yourself. You’re not alone in this. And you’re not responsible for my safety, as much as you’d like to be. Just your own.”

_But I am responsible for you, Stephen._ “Yeah, okay. Let me show you what I’m working on,” Tony replied, pulling his boyfriend to the blueprints laid out.

_That Evening_

“This armour, it’ll help you feel safe?” Stephen asked, his head resting on Tony’s head from where they were cuddled on the sofa in the penthouse’s living room. The doctor’s hand was stroking Tony’s thigh as a gesture of comfort. Tony in turn has his arm wrapped around Stephen’s back, fingers dancing along his spine, causing the doctor to shiver from the sensation every so often.

“Yeah, it will. I swear, I’m not trying to… start the fight. I just want to be prepared for whatever comes our way. Keep you safe.”

“What if nothing comes our way?” Stephen questioned.

“That would be the _best_ case scenario, trust me. This suit would just give me peace of mind. Knowing it exists, that it’s there for me and you.”

“Alright…” the doctor agreed hesitantly. “I just don’t want you to become obsessed with this. There are other things in life you can be a part of instead. You don’t have to be on defence all the time.”

“Trust me babe, the only thing I could _possibly_ be obsessed with is you,” Tony purred, secretly amused at Stephen’s doubtful expression. “Speaking of…” he shifted off the sofa and reached into one of the side drawers, finding what he had stored there since the beginning of their relationship. A small black box, a gold hinge the only marker of it being anything other than plain.

Getting on one knee, he revelled in Stephen’s shocked features, the doctor so different from his relaxed self a moment before. “Doctor Stephen Vincent Strange, life is short, and unpredictable, and for me anyways, had only ever been beautiful with you in it. Please, marry me. Make me the happiest man on earth.”

Stephen stared at him, eyes teary, hands cupped over his face. Lowering them, he spoke. “T-Tony, it’s only been eight months, I—”

“—I know, Steph. But I love you. And I’ll love you forever, I’m sure of that. We’ve been through so much together, and I know we can withstand even more than that. We’re meant to be.”

Stephen nodded slowly, seeming not to realize he was already agreeing. “Yes,” he whispered. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Tony. I love you so much, yes, yes, _yes._ ” Tony slipped the ring onto his finger, before meeting the doctor in a kiss, the two of them celebrating together the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> AH! What about that ending?!
> 
> Me: Yes, angsty, slight fluff, lots of trauma.  
> Stephen/Tony: Did you say proposal?  
> Me: What? No-  
> Stephen/Tony: I think she said proposal.
> 
> And now they're engaged.
> 
> And also, Stephen's willing to help Tony make the suit as some mechanism of coping (he understands people deal with trauma in different ways; what he doesn't realize is that Tony is dealing with more stuff than PTSD).
> 
> Kudos and comments always appreciated! The comments on the last chapter were brilliant, thank y'all so much! Wash your hands. 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)   
>  [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	26. Yours Truly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: smut, posessive behaviour

Tony couldn’t stop smiling. Everything was coming together for him. Stephen _agreed_ to marry him, and now donned the ring Tony chose for him 24/7. It was a thin gold ring with black detailing and small diamonds in rotation. Of course, there was a tracker hidden in it as well, so in the rare cases Stephen didn’t have his phone with him, Tony could still know where he was.

Stephen had dived right in with wedding planning, meticulous as he was. Which meant after long shifts at the hospital, he’d join Tony in the lab, researching catering services, and stationery companies for invitations, and halls most suited for the ‘wedding of the century,’ as coined by the media as soon as Tony and Stephen had announced their engagement. During the entirety of that speech, Stephen made sure his hand was always on Tony’s arm, not so subtly showing off the ring to the crowd.

He had arranged a binder similar to a vision board, outlining every detail of what their wedding should, could and would have. Organizing the perfect playlist, decor, colour scheme, dress code, Stephen was up to his nose in work and pressure from the outside. However, he refused Tony’s help for anything past giving Tony options first and letting the engineer decide.

Tony didn’t mind, as long as Stephen didn’t work himself to death with this. He’d be up for any wedding as long as it was with Stephen, after all, from the most elegant wedding in a castle to getting hitched in Vegas. He just wanted the man to be his forever and always, and if Stephen was more than willing to do it right? Tony wouldn’t try to fix what wasn’t broken.

Of course, on the nights when Stephen could barely see straight, but refused to let up on the planning, Tony was more than willing to drag him to bed and tire out the doctor himself. This night in particular, he could see the dark circles under Stephen’s eyes, usually there regardless, but more pronounced than usual. The doctor was also yawning more than usual, squinting to read smaller texts displayed on the bright blue screen he held in his hand.

“Stephen? I think it’s time for bed, yeah? I’m _exhausted,_ ” Tony said, exaggerating the tiredness in his own voice, hoping to earn some empathy from his fiancé.

This apparently worked, as the doctor looked up from the screen, eyes adjusting a moment to see Tony sitting further away from where the wedding plans were laid out in some version of organization only discernible to Stephen himself. He blinked once, twice. “What time is it?”

“It’s late enough,” Tony responded, standing up to hold out a hand to Stephen. The man took it easily enough, the wedding ring grazing Tony’s palm. The engineer held it up to his lips, kissing Stephen’s fingers with nothing short of adoration.

Stephen blushed, as he usually did when Tony went ‘over the top’ in expressing his affection. “Clearly, it’s not late enough for you to start anything here,” Stephen observed.

“It’s just the right time to head up, love,” Tony murmured.

“I suppose it is,” the taller man whispered, leaning down to capture Tony’s lips. Their kiss started out calm, almost tired, with an underlying warmth, before it quickly turned passionate.

Tony could feel Stephen’s long fingers grazing his sides, bringing him closer. In turn, he linked his hands around the man’s neck, getting lost in the kiss. He scratched at the nape of Stephen’s neck, right where the dark hair started, slowly beginning to get streaked with silver. While the doctor was entirely too self-conscious of this fact, Tony couldn’t help but feel the greys were a thing of beauty. Of course, anything Stephen did was a thing of beauty, in his opinion.

Breaking apart for air, he could feel Stephen’s breath hot against his face, their foreheads still pressed together. Not only that, but just how _interested_ the doctor had become. “Bed now?” Tony questioned, rolling his hips forward as unnecessary encouragement.

Stephen grinned, rolling his eyes. Of course, the slight reprimand was undermined by the bulge in his pants and the redness of his face. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Leaning on each other, they made their way to the bedroom, Tony not able to resist pressing kisses to his fiancé’s pale neck, evoking full-bodied shudders from the man.

Finally reaching their king-size, Stephen pulled Tony down onto the bed, immediately straddling him before bending down to resume their previous session. Tony, albeit a little distracted by the wonderful weight on top of him, shifted his trembling hands down the doctor’s sides before reaching the belt of his pants. Undoing the buckle, he reached in and pulled his shirt out from where it was tucked in.

Stephen whimpered feeling Tony’s hands on his bare stomach, and sat back. Smiling smugly, he undid each of his shirt buttons one by one, taunting Tony whose hands rested on the doctor’s thighs with barely any restraint. Stephen bent over Tony, his face tantalizingly close to the engineer’s, but just far enough they couldn’t kiss. The taller man’s hands smoothed over Tony’s torso, undoing his shirt as well before shedding his pants.

Tony undressed to just his boxers promptly, but before letting Stephen take charge again, he flipped their position, pushing the doctor onto his back on the mattress. Laughing in shock, Stephen grinned, his eyes bright with something akin to mania. “Can’t handle this babe?” he teased.

“Oh, I think it’s you who won’t be able to handle me,” Tony replied smoothly, slowly leaning down so he was perfectly parallel to the doctor lying down beneath him. Catching the man’s lips between his teeth, he felt a carnal satisfaction at the vulnerability of Stephen’s current state. Nearly nude, and aching with need, all in a perfect package for him to play with.

Rising up again, Tony undressed the both of them entirely, and reached for the lube in the bedside table’s drawer. Prepping the doctor was always fun for the both of them, Stephen immediately going limp as he focused on Tony’s fingers reaching that special spot of his with near precision nearly every time. By the time Tony could fit three fingers in Stephen, the man was nearly trembling with pleasure in his heightened desire. For _Tony._

Bracing himself above Stephen once more, Tony nipped the man’s neck delicately, pushing into him at the same time. They groaned in synchronicity, their hunger for each other never ceasing. And Stephen definitely felt _amazing,_ holding him close like Tony had never experienced with another man.

“Tony, please move,” Stephen begged, eyes shut tight in rapture. Tony could only comply, starting slower and getting faster with the doctor’s pleas increasing, Tony’s face buried in the man’s neck. The bed shook with their movement, the room getting gradually hotter, not that either of them noticed in those moments.

“Tell me you love me,” Tony demanded, looking down at the man below him.

“I love you, Tony, oh…” Stephen complied, lost in his own mind, hazy with desire.

“Tell me you’re mine,” Tony insisted, fully aware Stephen was not entirely present.

“I’m yours, Tonyy, forever and always, I love you, Tony, I’m yours, mmm,” Stephen repeated mindlessly.

In the next moment Stephen reached his peak, moaning loudly, bringing Tony over the edge as well. Staying inside the man for a moment longer, Tony pulled out, and noticed the doctor had fallen asleep.

After the necessary clean-up, Tony crawled back into bed, gathering Stephen into his arms, the man still deeply asleep from their earlier activities. Tony couldn’t help but feel some pride every time he managed to reduce the powerful, sexy, unstoppable force that was Stephen Strange into this quiet, subdued, and satisfied individual, just needing Tony to hold him and nothing else.

Tony could feel Stephen snuggling closer, even unconsciously, touch-starved as the man was. He in-turn held the doctor tighter, grazing a hand over Stephen’s ring as reassurance. _He said he was mine, forever and always,_ Tony thought, chest warm at the memory. It was usually so difficult to get the doctor to say it, but it looked like sex lowered the doctor’s inhibition by _a lot._

After nights like these, sometimes Tony would go down to the lab, leaving Stephen to get a good night’s sleep, to continue working on the suit. He’d always return to bed before his fiancé could tell Tony had ever left. As of this point, it was entirely assembled, and JARVIS was busy running diagnostics to check the flight and weapon capabilities of the armour before Tony took it for a test run himself.

But tonight, in their warm bed, and with Stephen pulled flush against him, Tony couldn’t think of anything better than to just watch the man sleep. _He always looks more peaceful like this anyways,_ Tony thought, pressing a kiss to the man’s hair before drifting off himself, secure in the knowledge they’d always have each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> I don't know where this chapter came from, tbh. The characters took over and immediately chose smut over any real plot development. But it sort of fits, I mean they just got engaged. I also wanted to emphasize the possessive side of Tony coming out during sex (it seems fitting).
> 
> Stephen's wedding planning is way too fun to write. Just him stressing out over boutonnieres or whatever other fluffy ish is hilarious, especially considering he's a world-renowned neurosurgeon as a side note.
> 
> Random side note: the chapter title is Yours Truly, which is one of my favourite ways of signing off letters?! It's just so... endearing and personable, Idk. I love it. Unfortunately, people don't write letters anymore so.... email?
> 
> I drew Stephen in a dress, with Tony in a colour-coordinated outfit for no reason. Real power couple stuff. I'm very tempted to draw more. Check it out on my insta/tumblr!
> 
> Otherwise, thanks for reading, take care of your mental health, I know this term is wrapping up soon for my ppl in school/uni (I'm in the same boat). Final note: wash your hands. 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)  
> [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	27. Flight

Suited up, Tony was running on adrenaline, ready as anything for his first real flight. After some basic balance tests, nearly wrecking a few of his cars and some of his workshop, he figured he had it handled by this point. Wiggling his fingers and seeing the metal contract, shifting over the different plates carefully welded together.

Stephen was in the corner of the workshop, biting a nail nervously and watching Tony pace a few laps while JARVIS double- and triple-checked the diagnostics of the suit, as per Stephen’s insistence. Tony _loved_ just how protective the doctor could get.

“Everything looks to be in place, Mr. Stark,” the AI reported, sounding mildly exasperated based on how many times he had to report just this.

“Are we sure Jarvis? Maybe just check one more time, and then we’ll let Tony go,” Stephen requested, eyes pointed at the nearest computer, images of the suit’s blueprints displayed on the screen.

“Jar, that won’t be necessary,” Tony reassured the AI. Walking over to Stephen, for once he towered over the doctor, the suit giving him a little extra height (okay, _a lot_ , but no one needed to know that). Taking Stephen’s hands in his, careful not to pinch the man’s hands with the metal joints, he waited until Stephen lifted his gaze, revealing worried blue eyes.

“I think it is necessary, Tony. This kind of… engineering has no precedent, and I—”

Tony bent down to kiss the man on the corner of his lips. “I know you’re worried, but you trust me right? That means trusting me _on this_. I know what I’m doing babe, they don’t call me a genius for nothing.”

Stephen rolled his eyes at the familiar argument, Tony often playing the ‘genius’ card whenever they disagreed. Most times, it was rarely applicable to what they were talking about, but that didn’t stop the billionaire from trying.

“You know, I’m one of the best neurosurgeons in the country, yes? I’m not ‘genius’-level, but I think I can still be relatively aware of the risks.”

“Not _one_ of the best neurosurgeons, _the_ best,” Tony insisted.

“Buttering me up so you can finally test this out?” Stephen asked.

Tony grinned, tapping the doctor’s nose with one metal finger. “You know me.”

Stephen placed a hand on the arc reactor, taking a breath, Tony inhaling at the same time. “That I do,” he answered, seeming lost in thought, entranced by the blue light. He leaned forward, kissing the reactor before stepping back from Tony. “Fine, go,” he relented.

Tony grinned, already walking toward the take-off point. “I’ve got this Stephie, _relax._ Have a tea, I’ll be back before you finish it.”

“No way,” Stephen griped, collapsing dramatically on the sofa in the corner of the workshop. “I will not be _spoiling_ tea by being all anxious while waiting for you.”

Tony laughed. “Alright then. I’ll be back before you can say Stark-Strange.”

“Strange-Stark!” Tony heard fading out as he blasted through the tunnel into the open air. Stephen was definitely going to make him pay later for interrupting. Hopefully a fun punishment, he was having too much fun to deal with real conflict right now.

The excitement felt like almost too much to deal with at that point. He was _flying,_ really flying! He could see the glow of New York City, the majesty of Stark Tower, ooh, a _ferris wheel._ He made a beeline for it, Jarvis outlining potential flight patterns and hazards on a hologram in the corner of the helmet, his vitals monitored on the other side.

Tony’s laugh came out loud and exuberant, not without little breaks as he dropped to various altitudes in ways his body would _definitely_ have to become acclimated to. Suddenly, he had an idea. “Jar? What’s the highest altitude humans had reached using flight tech?”

“85 000 feet, sir.”

“Alright, let’s see what this thing can do, records are made to be broken. Come on!” he yelled, already heading higher up into the atmosphere.

“There is a potentially fatal buildup of ice occurring,” JARVIS reported, Tony already feeling the cold seep through his helmet and stiffening the metal of his shoulder-span. One of the boosters in his boot shot out, the lights going out in his helmet, and suddenly he found himself slowed down in his descent, before spiralling back to earth.

“The ice stopped Jarvis, deploy flaps!” he yelled, waiting for any kind of response. “Jarvis?” The earth was coming up quickly, the lights still out in the suit. “Come on, we gotta break the ice!” he shouted, a hint of panic in his voice. Manually grabbing the lever in his thigh plate that deployed the flaps, the ice broke, slowing down his decent, the power in his suit turning back on.

Just before hitting the ground, the boosters turned on, and Tony zipped past the traffic on the roads, before gaining altitude once more. He laughed victoriously, nearly maniacally, heading back to the tower to park the suit, ready to tell Stephen about how well the flight actually went.

Hovering above the rooftop for a second, he instructed JARVIS to kill the power in the suit. And subsequently dropped down, through one floor, then another, then another, and through a piano before ending up crushed against one of his cars in the workshop, where DUM-E ‘helpfully’ sprayed him down with a fire extinguisher.

Hearing the crashing from the kitchen, Stephen ran down to the workshop. “Tony?! Are you okay?!”

The engineer peeled off the gauntlets, then his helmet, before shifting out of the wreckage. Still feeling slightly high from adrenaline, he smiled widely, shoving off different pieces of the armour so he could run up to the doctor and hug him properly.

Stephen held him back tightly, before holding the billionaire back by his shoulders and doing a quick once-over of Tony’s form. “Like what you see Steph?” Tony teased.

“I’m checking you for injuries, you imbecile. I _told_ you the flight would be dangerous, what the _hell_ was I thinking letting you go like that?” Stephen snapped harshly, seeming more mad at himself than at Tony.

“Technically the flight _wasn’t_ dangerous, it was just the landing. Which I really should have taken into consideration before just dropping down like that,” he explained.

“Yes, you _should_ have. Seriously, Tony, you could have really hurt yourself!” Stephen reprimanded. He seemed satisfied at the surprising _lack_ of injuries from the crash, to which Tony congratulated himself for protecting himself appropriately (for once).

“But I didn’t, Steph. It’s alright,” Tony reassured the man, just before taking his hand and dragging the man off to the main floor. He assumed JARVIS would have already taken the initiative to call a team for repairing the parts of the tower he destroyed.

Stephen looked back at the scattered pieces of the armour all over the workshop’s floor. Was that… _frost_? He figured it wouldn’t even be worth asking his fiancé what that was about. Tony seemed… slightly manic, definitely high on adrenaline and unaware of just how much it was affecting him. The engineer’s hand was shaking in his own.

“Tony? Are you sure you’re alright? You’re shaking.”

“Steph, _relax,_ it’ll fade. I just can’t believe it worked,” Tony said, dragging Stephen to the couch before straddling the doctor. Eyes lit up with inspiration, the billionaire leaned in for a kiss, which Stephen reciprocated easily, before breaking away earlier than Tony would have liked.

The doctor’s eyes narrowed, analyzing Tony’s face. “What?” Tony asked breathlessly.

“I’m just… observing you,” Stephen replied distractedly. He reached up to smooth Tony’s hair back, noticing how the engineer leaned into the touch instinctively. He pulled Tony’s face back toward his, pressing a desperate kiss to the man’s lips.

Tony held the doctor’s neck in-between his hands, sending shivers down Stephen’s spine. He shifted to press kisses to Stephen’s cheek and jaw, hearing Stephen’s intake of breath at the new sensations.

“I love you,” Tony whispered. “I’m sorry for worrying you. I can stop working on the suit, if that’s what you want,” he promised, reverence lacing every word.

Stephen looked at Tony, seeming in shock. “Really?” he asked, doubt in his voice. Tony nodded. Stephen took a second to think, before shaking his head hesitantly. “No, it’s alright. I told you I would be okay with it, it’d be unfair to take that away from you now,” he reasoned.

“Whatever you want, honey. My life isn’t my own anymore,” Tony said, still in Stephen’s lap.

“It still is, Tony. You can still live your own life, the same way I can still live mine. But we’ll be here for each other. And maybe your armour can be there for you too. But I would like to see less destruction of our home, while you’re working on it,” Stephen reprimanded.

Tony laughed, lightness in his chest like he had rarely felt before Stephen entered his life. “Of course honey, I’ve got repair workers coming as we speak.”

Stephen nodded, seeming calmer compared to moments before. Tony tried to relax in the same way, but he had just _flown_ for goodness’ sake! And _lived,_ crashing down through a building. He could only imagine what other capabilities he could integrate into the armour. And protect Stephen, then himself, and perhaps so many others. His fiancé would surely approve. Pacifist and all that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> Me watching the flight scene in Iron Man: It's for research, obviously.
> 
> And I know that he lives at his Malibu mansion in that movie, but Stephen's in NY, so Tony's in NY, in the Tower. Simple as that (I'm sure our possessive billionaire would agree).
> 
> Let me know what y'all think! Comments and kudos always appreciated. 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)   
>  [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	28. Innocent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: depictions of violence, minor character deaths

“The fifteen mile hike to the outskirts of Gulmira can only be described as a descent into hell, into a modern day Heart of Darkness. Simple farmers and herders from peaceful villages have been driven from their homes, displaced from their lands by warlords emboldened by a newfound power.”

Tony was tinkering with the gauntlet of his suit, already on his hand, when his ears pricked hearing the reporter mention Gulmira. He glanced up, taking a breath, to glare at the screen.

“Villagers have been forced to take shelter in whatever crude dwellings they can find in the ruins of other villages, or here in the remnants of an old Soviet smelting plant.” Gunfire sounds rang through, on shaky video capturing the soldiers activity. Tony flared up the gauntlet, tensing as his mind was pushed back to his time in captivity.

“Recent violence has been attributed to a group of foreign fighters referred to by locals as the Ten Rings. As you can see these men are heavily armed and on a mission. A mission that could prove fatal to anyone who stands in their way.” Tony clenched his fist in the gauntlet. He stood, watching the screen for a moment before walking away, throwing a screwdriver down on a nearby table.

“With no political will or international pressure, there’s very little hope for these refugees. Around me, a woman begging for news on her husband, who was kidnapped by insurgents, either forced to join their militia…” Tony tuned out the rest of what the woman was saying, raising his arm and blasting a hanging light fixture in the workshop. _Works like a charm,_ he thought, with grim satisfaction.

Walking forward, he looked to his left, seeing his disheveled reflection in the glass doors closing off the stairs to the lab from the main penthouse. In the sudden distaste for his own self, past and present, he fired at the first panel, the second, spun before blasting the third into shards. The mess remained on the floor, as he walked over to suit up.

Standing on the grid pattern as designed, the floor opened up beneath him, revealing the metal boots of the armour, ready for him to step into. As he did, the metal closed around him, other claws screwing the legs into place. The chestplate framed the arc reactor. The arms and the gauntlets came together, the whirring and metal sounds the only noise in the lab. _Lucky Stephen’s at work,_ Tony mused, just as the helmet came together, the screen scrolling with information coming into view.

He took off, the suit soaring powerfully through the clouds. It was easily faster than any normal aircraft in existence, by a landslide. Landing in Gulmira, easily directed there by Jarvis, he could hear gunfire, and missile explosions getting louder as he approached. The screams of families almost overpowered the hostile threats yelled by soldiers.

Innocents were chased through the remains of the village, the militia waving around machine guns as a show of power. Men were killed without a second glance, the women and children pushed roughly into the trucks. A father was separated from his wife and children, before getting beaten into the ground and made to kneel for his execution.

Just before the soldier could follow through, Tony landed, his armour sounding like a missile with the speed he had acquired. One fighter immediately shot at his chest, and acting instinctively, he punched the man, sending him flying into the wall of a collapsed building. _Wasn’t really expecting that, but it works,_ he noticed, newly realizing just how powerful he made the suit.

He blasted another soldier into a wall, it crumbling around the man’s form, then another two in succession. Spinning around, he was prepared to take on the four other soldiers in front of the truck, before seeing the hostages being used as human shields.

Shouting at him in a foreign language, Tony could assume they were telling him to lower the gauntlets, so he did, not wanting to risk the lives of the refugees. Their faces reflected levels of fear that would haunt him in his nightmares, he was sure of that.

Luckily, the gauntlets weren’t the only weapon at his disposal. Seeing the screen map out the hostiles vs. the civilians, the stand-off lasted approximately ten seconds before the shoulders in the suit opened up, shooting the soldiers cleanly and effectively. A heavy silence came over the refugees, the only sounds being the scuffling of feet against dirt.

The son of the family yelled out for his father, before running to reunite with him. Tony couldn’t relate to loving his father that much, but he was still glad this kid would have two living parents for at least a few more years. He could try to have that with Peter, maybe. Him and Stephen raising the excitable teen sounded promising.

Walking past the grand reunion, he scanned for remaining soldiers. Hearing the dial of a phone, he punched through a vandalized wall, pulling back with another leader of the Ten Rings in hand, and throwing him to the ground. “He’s all yours,” Tony said to the gathering civilians, before taking off.

Just as he spotted another stockpile of his weapons, and readied the suit to destroy it, he was blasted out of the sky, landing in another abandoned village with a thud, sending dirt flying. The smoke cleared, and he reached out of the crater he made, glaring at the offending tank. He stepped out, staring at it a moment before it fired another missile.

Sidestepping it in disbelief, he shot a bomb from the gauntlet, tiny and non-threatening at first glance, which clanged against the wall of the tank. Not a moment later, it exploded, causing the vehicle to go up in flames. More soldiers shot at him, and _seriously, have they not learned by now?_

He flew up, marking his targets, before blasting the stockpile to kill two birds with one stone, ruining their supplies and taking out more soldiers. Seeing another trail of trucks belonging to the Ten Rings, with the leader in one of the passenger seats, the same one he took down in the cave, Tony took care of them before flying back to New York.

Of course, it was easier said than done. Rhodes called him, serving as an unintentional warning that the US military was about to blow the suit to kingdom come. An evasive manoeuvre here, a quick rescue there, and Tony was back on track to Stark Tower.

Getting the suit off proved to be more tricky than getting it on.

“Hey! Ow! A-a-a-a-a-a-ah,” Tony exclaimed, JARVIS explaining “it is a tight fit, sir.”

“Hey, ugh!” he couldn’t help the noises coming out of his mouth at this point. “Sir, the more you struggle, the more this is going to hurt.”

“Be gentle, this is my first time,” Tony couldn’t even stop the flirting being entirely alone. “I designed this to come off, so…” he was a little confused about why things weren’t happening exactly as he intended them to.

“Ow, hey! I really should be able to…”

“Please, try not to move sir.” _Easier said than done,_ Tony thought, squirming from where he was standing, still in the armour, surrounded by claws meant to take off the suit piece by piece. Struggle was abundant.

“What’s going on here?” Stephen spoke, probably just having gotten home from work.

Tony looked over at him a moment. “Let’s face it. This is not the worst thing you’ve caught me doing.”

The doctor stared forward, features schooling into concern. “Are those bullet holes?”

_What a terrible time to be restrained,_ Tony thought, before the doctor stepped forward to help the engineer out of the armour.

The next half hour was spent in near-silence, Tony suspended, occasionally muttering instructions to Stephen of how to get the pieces to come apart. “Use the screwdriver, you’ll see a little notch under the wrist…” he whispered.

The doctor followed along, without saying a word. Tony couldn’t tell what the man was thinking. As soon as the gauntlet was taken off his hand, Stephen pulled him from the space surrounded by scattered metal to a nearby couch, checking over the man for injury. If Tony wasn’t so nervous, he might have made an attempt to ‘check out’ the doctor in turn.

Stephen applied a few bandages, some gauze to wherever he deemed appropriate. Tony preened under the attention, despite the deafening quiet of the lab.

When he finished, Stephen sighed, looking away before collapsing beside Tony on the couch, an arm slung over his eyes.

The engineer figured he’d be the one to break the tension. “So… I guess I have some explaining to do.”

Stephen glared at the man from underneath his arm. “You guess?”

“Yeah.” Tony paused, not sure where to start. “Uh, the suit works.”

“Works for _what_?!” Stephen snapped. He stood up, beginning to pace the floor. “What the hell are you planning with this, Tony?” he asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.

“I wanted to use this for _good,_ Steph. And I did, today. I saved _families._ Young women, and children. I protected them from the bad guys, I _wasn’t_ the bad guy, for once.”

“And _how_ did you save them?” Stephen asked, a knowing edge in his voice. Tony knew exactly what the doctor was implying.

He looked up at the man evenly. “I killed the soldiers holding them hostage. And the other terrorists associated.”

“And you don’t see anything _wrong_ with that?”

Tony stood up, annoyed by Stephen chiding him like a child. “No, I _don’t._ Those people needed help, and god knows the _politics_ of it all prevents them from getting _any_ help. They finally had someone to look out for the little guy.”

“And you’re the one looking out for the little guy, yes? Those ‘terrorists’ were still people. You didn’t _have_ to kill them to save everyone else.”

“They got better than what they deserved. You should have seen the way they beat innocents, flaunting around their machine guns like it was nothing!”

“They are all part of a larger issue, Tony. Those soldiers may not have had a _choice,_ to become what they did. There are bigger influences than just _personal agendas._ They might be just as much a victim as the same people they held at gunpoint. You have to look at the bigger picture.”

“Okay. Bigger picture, these ‘higher influences’ you talk about, they’re not going to disappear for a _very long time._ And people need help now. So while you _sign your petitions,_ and follow through with your _one thing at a time_ bullshit, I can actually make real change.”

“Even if it means sacrificing the lives of people who became part of this messed-up situation without a choice?”

“Maybe _especially_ then, Steph. Some of us are going to make it out of this, and I’d rather the people who actually believe in _doing the right thing_ are the ones that do.”

“Make it out of _what,_ Tony? You’re turning the wrong people into your enemies.”

“Make it out of this _life!_ With all the _famine,_ and _floods,_ and rich assholes who will never give a _shit_ about the millions of people murdered, tortured, harassed, exploited. Maybe some of those assholes contributed to the problem in the first place! I was one of them, and now I could _not_ be!”

“There is always _hope,_ Tony. I know, it’s frustrating, seeing all this suffering, and feeling helpless about it. But there are better ways to make things less awful, rather than killing anyone you see fit. You can’t possibly know the circumstances of everyone you deem a _villain,_ including if they think they’re doing the right thing or not.”

“Killing innocents is _never_ the right thing.” The engineer was adamant.

“But isn’t that exactly what you’re doing?” Stephen asked, sorrow in his voice.

“I am ridding the world of hurt. I’ve saved so many people. Why can’t you wrap your head around that?”

“And why can’t you _wrap your head around_ how you can’t save everyone, especially with methods as violent as the ones you’re so insistent on using?”

Tony looked on at Stephen, the doctor staring back at him. Letting out a shaky sigh, he glanced away, seeing the cityscape from the floor-to-ceiling window. “I’m not giving up the suit. I’ve given up too much, I can’t— not with this.”

“Well then I guess we’re done here,” Stephen said, leaving Tony in the tense silence of the lab.

The engineer walked away, and began to pick up scattered parts of the suit, placing them on a table for later reassembly. Seeing his reflection in the shiny gold of the mask, he cursed under his breath, already mapping out an apology.

Unfortunately for Stephen, however, he wasn’t willing to give up the suit in the _slightest._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> You probably know this already, but I'm gonna say it anyway: the entire first half of this chapter was not from my own imagination, it's essentially a transcription of that one scene from the Iron Man movie.
> 
> And then of course the second half, is mine. Moving on!
> 
> I have finished the 'outline' of this fic! I was feeling a little uninspired despite all the support (I love y'all so much), since I didn't have a concrete idea of where the plot was going. But now, I do! And it's going to be so crazy and fun, and probably better than when I was just winging the story as I went along.
> 
> What else...? An argument between Tony and Stephen. What do you think?
> 
> Comments and kudos always appreciated. Stay safe, wash your hands. 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)   
>  [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	29. Protect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: depictions of violence, minor character death, language!

It had been a few days since his argument with Stephen, Tony having decided to give the man some space to cool down. The doctor would have to come to his senses _eventually._

In the meantime, Tony had repaired the armour, and had reworked the mechanics of it, so he wouldn’t be caught in such a compromising position the next time Stephen decided to enter his lab without notice.

Not that it was the man’s fault, _of course._ He was welcome to all and any parts of Tony’s life, the only issue being that he often refused to extend the same courtesy to the engineer.

Isn’t a principle of relationships _fairness?_ People talk about being equal with their significant other _all the time,_ and despite being the literal billionaire in the relationship, Stephen still seemed to be the one holding all the cards, much to Tony’s dismay.

Just as he was helping himself to another cup of coffee, JARVIS spoke up. “Sir, Doctor Strange is showing signs of extreme distress, according to the readings from his ring.”

_What the hell?_ The AI was only to notify Tony of emergencies, so… _this isn’t good._ “Where is he? What kind of distress?”

“He is currently in his penthouse, where one other person has also been detected as present. Cameras have been disabled, so their identities remain unknown as of now. Elevated levels of cortisol are present in the doctor’s bloodstream, as well as higher heart rate and blood pressure.”

_Shit._ “Get the suit ready.”

Tony stepped into the armour, taking off without any hesitation, and flew towards the doctor’s penthouse. _Please be alright, please be alright, please—_

Flying through the large floor-to-ceiling window of Stephen’s place, Tony saw his fiancé first, arms up and standing against the wall, tears streaming down his face. A larger man was holding him there, gun pointed as an obvious threat. _Obadiah?_

“Obie, get the hell away from him.” Tony’s voice sounded rougher through the suit.

Stephen looked at Tony first, relief evident in his expression, smiling through his tears. Tony’s heart flipped at the doctor’s immediate response to him.

Obadiah turned around a moment later, however, not with the fear Tony wanted to see. Instead, the financier had a sickening grin plastered on his face, as if he was expecting Tony to arrive in the first place.

Stane grabbed Stephen by the collar, the doctor yelping in surprise, and hooked his arm around Stephen’s neck, holding a gun to his head. Stephen coughed, trying to struggle free, while Obadiah looked back at Tony.

“So, Stark. It seems we’ve reached a bit of a stalemate,” he said frankly, Stephen still struggling in his arms.

With his gauntlet still raised, Tony took off his helmet, facing off the man he once thought of as someone akin to an uncle. “Let him go, Stane. We can talk this through.”

Obadiah grinned. “Now why would I do that? He’s leverage, shouldn’t you know this? Big bad CEO of a weapons company like you?”

“ _I am aware_ of leverage, Stane. I’m _also aware_ of my full capability to blast you into next week!” Tony aimed both gauntlets with a new ferocity at the pair. “Let him go!”

“ _Not_ until you give me what I _want._ Your arc reactor, ha, it promises big investments. Not to mention, that suit of yours. Don’t you _see_ the potential?”

Stephen was shaking his head, still caught in Obadiah’s grip. _No, don’t, not for me._ Tony looked on, eyes darting between his fiancé and the businessman holding him hostage.

Obie looked down at Stephen, seeing the same small protest coming from the doctor. “He might not like the trade very much, _but,_ we both know you’d do anything for him, wouldn’t you?” Stane mocked, knowingly.

Tony shook his head, imploring the man not to continue speaking while Stephen could still hear. Of course, his near-pleading was ignored. “Let’s see, the cameras, the trackers, in both his _phone_ and his _ring_? A little excessive, no? And how about paying off the doorman, and the chief of surgery, and—”

“—Shut up!” Tony yelled, taking a step forward. “Stephen, he’s _lying,_ I swear,” the engineer added on, seeing the questioning, betrayed look the doctor began to express.

“Am I Tony? How did you know he was in trouble, hm? I had _already_ disabled the cameras, so what else was involved? Is the penthouse linked to JARVIS? Should I keep talking, or will you give me what I want?”

“No, no, _shut up,_ Stane.” Tony paused, taking a breath to calm down. “I’m not giving you anything.”

The same miniature explosives he used in Gulmira came out of the shoulders of his armour, aimed at Stane, taking him down in the same way the terrorists were then. The man stepped back from Stephen in shock, clearly not having expected Tony’s weapons to exceed just the gauntlets.

Knowing he was fatally injured, the businessman spoke one last time. “You know, they were supposed to kill you, in Afghanistan. I paid them _big money_ too, to finish you off. I guess it’s true, if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.”

Seeming hell-bent on sending Stark to his grave, Stane raised the gun, shooting one more time before collapsing dead on the floor of the penthouse.

Before Tony could tell what was happening, Stephen stepped in front of the line of fire, and as if Tony could see it in slow-motion, the bullet lodged in the doctor’s shoulder, successfully protecting the engineer before he fell back himself.

Tony dropped to his knees in front of his fiancé, peeling the suit off as quickly as he could. “Steph? Steph, what do I do? JARVIS already has the ambulance coming, please,” Tony rambled, panicking at seeing the blood. All his nightmares come to life in the midst of barely an hour.

Stephen struggled to sit up, leaning against his coffee table. “T-Tony, it’s alright. This sh-should be non-fatal, though it hurts like a _bitch._ ” The doctor even had the audacity to grin, albeit with the pained look in his eyes. “Pressure on the wound, and don’t let me fall asleep, j-just in case.”

Tony could only follow the instructions, in awe of his fiancé’s talents of clarity in crises. “Been shot often, doc?” he inquired.

Stephen laughed breathlessly, holding Tony’s hands in place over the wound. “I’ve got to say, this is a first for me, Tony.”

The doctor’s continued calm is what undid the engineer’s facade of being alright. With hot tears streaming down the engineer’s face, he glanced around at the armour before looking back at Stephen. “Why, _why_ would you do that? Stephen?”

Stephen continued to stare at Tony, smiling gently at his clear dismay. “We protect each other, right?”

Startled, Tony began to argue. “No, _I_ protect _you._ That’s how this was supposed to _work,_ and now, we’re here, and you’re injured, and Obie’s dead, and I—”

“—It’s alright,” Stephen whispered, holding the side of Tony’s face with one bloody hand. “We’ll figure this out. We still have a wedding of the century to pull off, after all.”

His attempt at distracting Tony was obvious, and the engineer leaned into the touch gratefully.

The paramedics _finally_ arrived, and they lifted Stephen onto a stretcher, Tony going with him the entire way to the hospital, leaving the armour scattered in the doctor’s apartment, and Obadiah’s body left for someone else to clean up.

He found it quite amusing, the way Stephen directed his own doctors to make sure they did the surgery right. The exasperation was clear in their faces, but with Tony Stark present and alert, the pressure was tenfold that they get this right.

Later, in one of the hospital rooms beginning recovery, Stephen asked Tony to lay down with him. When they were both settled in, Stephen leaned his head on the engineer’s shoulder. “I missed you, these last few days,” he began.

Tony looked down, seeing only the doctor’s black hair streaked with silver. “I missed you too, you have no _idea_ how much.”

“That doesn’t mean I’ve changed my mind about the suit, though. How you use it, anyway.”

Tony was shocked. “Did we just experience the same thing? Or am I delusional? Did you not _see,_ how I saved you? Obadiah would have _killed_ you.”

Stephen sat up, as much as he could with his injured shoulder. “There aren’t any, I don’t know, _non-lethal_ alternatives?” He seemed resigned, but still hopeful.

Tony paused at Stephen’s inquiry. Looked ahead after staring a beat too long at his fiancé’s injury. “Y’know Steph? I’ll look into it for you,” he responded quietly.

The doctor breathed a sigh of relief, smiling before kissing Tony’s shoulder. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Tony grinned back, happy to be in the man’s good graces once more. He leaned in for a proper kiss, Stephen reciprocating eagerly.

Pulling back, the doctor paused, searching for something in Tony’s eyes. “About what Stane said…” he trailed off.

Tony raised his eyebrows, feigning innocence. “He lied, I _swear._ I’ve been listening to you. Independence and all that. I don’t have trackers, or cameras, or anything in the penthouse.” 

Stephen nodded. “Alright Anthony. I trust you,” he said, gripping Tony’s hand in solidarity, his engagement ring glinting in fluorescent light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> Well. That takes care of the Obadiah problem. And it looks like Stephen got a little injured during it. And Tony is definitely freaking out.
> 
> From here, it'll basically go off-the-rails from any semblance of the canon timeline (there'll still be elements of it, obviously, but probably not in ways you'd expect).
> 
> Erhm. I finished a final this morning, and AM FINALLY FREE YAY. I'll probably be able to start writing one-shots again soon, which I'm hyped for.
> 
> Otherwise, happy holidays, stay safe, wash your hands. 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)   
>  [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	30. Red Handed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: non-con drug use, stalking

Stephen had made the decision to trust Tony. And that had been a good thing, right? His fiancé had _promised_ to let up on Stephen’s security, and allow him a _little_ more independence than initially planned. And had been following through on that promise, as best as the engineer could. So why did he have the oddest feeling something was wrong?

Stephen understood Tony’s fears. Understood the signs of PTSD, and paranoia, and love. But this was all starting to border on obsession. Or at least, he was starting to take the signs more seriously now. Tony had been a little much before, but ever since Stephen was shot, the man was ten times as devoted to Stephen’s care than he was before, if that was even possible.

With his arm in a sling, he could barely do anything himself. Cook, shower, get dressed. And so, as a consequence of _that_ , Tony insisted that he’d be by the doctor’s side 24/7. The sling had recently been taken off, but that didn’t stop the engineer from insisting he still help the doctor move around.

When he just wanted to go for a walk, having barely anything else to do on his time off while recovering, Tony _insisted_ Stephen stay home, at the Tower, until he was feeling better entirely, not the halfway Stephen was at right now.

“Steph, let me help you take off your coat. We can go watch a movie in the living room, or something.”

Stephen had shrugged his coat over one arm, draping the other half over his recently healed shoulder. “Tony, it’s just a walk. I’ll be fine. You can come, if you want.”

“I don’t want you going outside like this, please.”

“It’s not up to you, Tony. I’ve been inside for _ages,_ recovering. I just want something different, this is becoming painfully monotonous.”

“Stephen, _you’re injured._ That’s what recovery’s supposed to be! As boring as it is, it will help you _get better,_ faster. We can do something different here, that won’t involve you straining yourself.”

“It’s hardly _straining_ myself, Tony. My shoulder was injured, not my legs.”

“And everything’s _connected,_ shouldn’t you know that? Mister Doctor?” Tony’s voice had become borderline condescending.

“Tony, _please!_ Don’t make a big deal out of this, I know what I’m doing.” Stephen could feel himself becoming riled up, and the last thing he wanted to do was get into a big fight right now.

“I just… I’m just worried. Sorry for caring, Steph,” Tony responded, seemingly resigned at Stephen’s insistence. He sniffed, and headed in the opposite direction, probably to work on something in the lab.

_Shit,_ Stephen thought, taking off his coat. “Wait, Anthony…” He called out, reaching for the man.

“No, it’s fine. I get it. Go out for your walk, whatever.” Tony stopped walking, but didn’t turn around.

“I’m sorry.” Stephen said. “Tony.”

The engineer turned around, his eyes shiny with tears. “I just don’t want to see you hurt, even more than you already are, Steph.” He placed a hand on Stephen’s good arm.

“A walk wouldn’t kill me, Tones. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll stay in for a few more days, alright?”

“ _Thank you._ I just want you to get better.”

“I _am_ getting better, Tony. It’s alright. Let’s go watch a movie, like you said, alright?” With that, Stephen took Tony’s hand and led him to the living room. Tony put on something Stephen didn’t care to read the title of, and they settled into a comfortable quiet, the movie distracting Tony for a little while.

Stephen’s mind still wandered to unsettling places, despite the peaceful atmosphere. _He still got me to stay home,_ he thought, a sickening feeling in his stomach. Where does persuasion end and manipulation start? What was the big deal if he went for a walk? Why can’t Tony _let him be_?

He felt a shifting to his right. Stephen looked over, and saw the man had fallen asleep. It was times like this, Stephen found it hard to see the obsessive stranger he was engaged to, being the same person as his lovable boyfriend, the man’s face peaceful where he lay.

He got up to shift Tony into a more comfortable position, with a pillow under his head, and a blanket spread over him. He watched the movie for another hour, stroking Tony’s ankle absent-mindedly, then got the remote to turn off the television, and headed into the bedroom.

Scrolling through the contacts on his phone, Stephen realized he didn’t have that many people he could trust to talk to, or rely on, other than Tony. _Had he planned it like this?_ A voice in the back of his mind questioned, Stephen not knowing where it came from.

Seeing the name of a person he had once loved so much, he pressed call, hoping more than anything they’d pick up, despite the reality of the situation.

Against all odds, they did. “Stephen?”

“Christine… hi.” Now that she had actually picked up, Stephen had no idea where to start. They had one of the most abrupt breakups he’d ever experienced, and thinking they’d never speak again, it seemed like something akin to a miracle they were now.

“Are you alright?” Her voice seemed frantic, hard-pressed.

“Yeah, of course. Physically anyways, ha. Are you?” This wasn’t small-talk, this was… something else.

She ignored his question. “Does Stark know you’re talking to me?” _What a weird thing to ask._

“No, he doesn’t. He’s asleep in the living room. I just wanted someone to talk to.” He paused. “That _wasn’t_ him,” Stephen clarified.

“Stephen, I need you to listen, carefully. I didn’t break up with you because I stopped loving you. Or because of any of the promotions I was offered.”

_That was unexpected._ “Why are you telling me this?” Stephen inquired. He moved into the bathroom, sensing Christine wouldn’t want to be overheard by Tony at all.

“It was _Stark._ He blackmailed me into breaking up with you. Threatened me with my life and yours. Said if you weren’t his, you were as good to him as dead.”

_W-what?_ A chill travelled down Stephen’s spine. “I-uh… when did this happen?”

“Sometime during the first few meetings about our research. That he funded.”

_It had been going on that long? We weren’t even dating yet!_ “Why are you telling me this now? Why didn’t you tell me from the start?”

“I’m _sorry,_ Stephen. I was worried for your safety, and mine. You _know_ what he’s capable of. He got me those promotions as some viable excuse for me to leave you. He stuck you with that security team. He kept me captive while he was in Afghanistan, when I tried to tell you _months_ ago. _He_ killed Bravo when Stark saw him getting too close.”

“H-held captive? _He_ killed Bravo? It wasn’t the Ten Rings?” As much as Stephen could tell Christine was telling the truth, he was hoping Tony had at least _some_ good left in him.

“No, Stephen. I’m sorry.”

“Why aren’t you worried for your safety now? You could be caught again, telling me this.”

“I’m somewhere safe. Hopefully we can get you here too. We’ve made plans to get you out, and I think now is the best time to do it.”

“Who’s ‘we?’ What do I do?”

“I can’t tell you much more, just in case your phone is chipped. Just get out of there. You said he’s asleep, right? Sneak out, be _quiet._ One of ours can meet you in front of the tower in minutes. They’ll know to look for you amongst the crowd. Take off any trackers you might have on you, we can’t risk his discovery of us.”

“Alright.” Stephen ended the call, feeling his stomach flip with nerves. _What the hell?_ All this information had come fast, too fast, but it looked like he’d have no time to process it for the time being. _What did Christine say? Just get out of there. Careful of trackers._

He opened the bathroom door as quietly as he could, and made his way out of the bedroom. He left his phone on the bedside table. And thinking again, he looked at his left hand, remembering what Obadiah said. _The trackers, in both his phone and his ring?_ Stephen pulled his engagement ring off, shoving it under a pillow so Tony couldn’t find it until later.

Stephen walked into the living room. With a quick glance at the couch, Stephen felt his heart drop. The blanket was neatly folded on one end, the pillow placed delicately against the end cushion. Tony had been up for a while.

“Have a nice phone call?”

Stephen’s gaze darted from the couch to the kitchen, Tony leaning against the counter, phone placed beside him, a small something in his far hand.

“Tony I— how was your nap?” Stephen could have fainted from the tension in the room.

“I slept well, thanks to you. I love you, you know that?”

“Yeah, I—”

“—Don’t lie to me Stephen. Don’t tell me you love me too, and then go call your ex in the other room.”

“I just wanted to talk to a friend. I’m not cheating on you, I swear.” He had no idea what to say to make this seem alright, to calm Tony down.

“Oh I know. But, you do realize her fears were accurate enough, yes? I _did_ chip your phone, and I listened to the whole thing. And so, you’ve done something a little worse than cheat.”

Tony strode towards Stephen, backing up the doctor against the wall. “You made plans to leave me,” he whispered, caressing Stephen’s cheek with a calloused hand.

Stephen tried shifting away from the man’s touch, suddenly repulsed. “You’ve done terrible things, Tony.”

“Everything I've done has been for you, Stephen. From the moment we met, I’ve _lived_ for you.” Tony took Stephen’s chin in hand, forcing the doctor to make eye contact.

“You’ve _killed_ people. And ruined people’s lives, and manipulated me, and—”

“—Don’t play innocent, Steph. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for _you._ Didn’t you _like_ the attention? The devotion?”

“This isn’t _devotion,_ Tony. This is _obsession._ Please, just let me go.” Stephen held onto the engineer’s hand gripping his chin with his hands.

“I _can’t_ let you go, Stephen. We’re meant to be together. Through the good _and_ bad.” Tony paused, seeing Stephen’s empty hand for the first time in their conversation. “Did you take off your ring?”

“Yes, I did,” the doctor answered slowly, before continuing. “Our ‘bad’ is miles from normal relationships. We’re _not_ meant to be together, not after what you’ve done.” Stephen managed to pry Tony’s hand from his face, and backed up from the man standing there menacingly.

“We can get through this, I know we can,” the engineer insisted. He moved towards Stephen, every one of his steps forward matched by one of the doctor’s steps backward, much to Tony’s chagrin. “You just need to trust me that everything will be _alright._ ”

“I’ve trusted you already, Tony. And you broke it, over and over again. I can’t… do this. Please.”

Tony backed Stephen up against the elevator doors, taking both of the doctor’s wrists in one hand, squeezing tightly. “I’m sorry it had to be this way, Steph.”

Stephen could feel tears well up, from fear or shame or apprehension, he couldn’t tell. “Anthony, please… Ah!” He startled, feeling a prick near his waist.

Tony let go of Stephen’s wrists, sliding the small device with the needle into his back pocket. _Had he been holding that this whole time?_ Stephen wondered, his mind in a daze. “Wha…” he whispered, his limbs feeling like lead.

Stephen felt himself being caught by Tony as he fell, muscular arms supporting his weight. “It’s alright, shh, it’ll be okay, Stephen. I love you, relax honey.”

The world slid sideways before blurring into black, the calm reassurances from Tony giving way to the intense ringing getting louder in Stephen’s head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> Well, that was a wild ride, wasn't it? The plot progresses!
> 
> This part will be explored by Tony's perspective next chapter, so everything will fall into place, just in case you thought this seemed a bit sudden.
> 
> Merry Christmas, happy holidays, stay safe, wash your hands. And see you next week for chapter 31! 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)   
>  [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	31. Confined

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: non-con bondage, language!

Tony raked a hand through his hair, annoyed at what the situation had come to. It had all been so peaceful, mere hours ago, with just him and Stephen, watching a movie, just them against the world.

And then he had to go and _fall asleep,_ and leave the doctor to mess everything up between them by calling Palmer, who had immediately blabbed to his fiancé everything Tony had supposedly ‘done wrong.’ And coordinate plans for Stephen leaving.

Tony could tell the doubt had begun to creep into Stephen’s mind the _moment_ Obadiah began speaking about his security measures. And apparently, everything Tony had done that came after had barely come close to quashing said-doubt.

When JARVIS woke Tony to warn him of the doctor’s decision to call Christine, he knew it would already be too late to try and interrupt their conversation, without looking incredibly suspicious. Weighing the pros and cons of it, he chose to simply listen to their conversation, and see if Stephen’s pesky ex would say anything entirely incriminating.

And of course, that did happen, and more. Christine was apparently part of some mysterious group that thought they could be protected against Tony, and were also planning to take Stephen from him.

The call ended, and Stephen left their bedroom, to face Tony waiting for him. The engineer thought fear looked good on the man, though of course, it might have been nicer if the doctor was afraid of something else, and looked to Tony to save him. _Gratitude,_ was apparently hard-won.

Tony knew he had a minimal chance of being able to convince the doctor to stay, and also knew that if he let him leave in those moments, he might never see him again, which couldn’t be allowed to happen. Plan B was a light sedative, just enough to knock the doctor out for a few hours while Tony worked to keep things going in his favour.

He had a few fail-safes in place, knowing this was all-too-possible since the _beginning_ of their relationship, Tony recognizing their unorthodox circumstances. One of these was the invention of technological bracelets, with a collar, meant to cause _spectacular_ destruction should they pass the boundaries of Tony’s penthouse and lab.

Tony watched the man sleep from a chair he had pulled up to the side of the bed. Seeing Stephen lying on his side, arms outstretched and donning the pieces Tony had fit on the man soon after, he felt a wave of peace wash over him, knowing the doctor couldn’t possibly leave without serious consequences, or Tony’s knowledge.

Tony was only willing to hurt him when it became necessary, after all. As long as his fiancé stayed with him, there would be no reason to diminish his well-being. They’d be safe, and they’d be together.

Eventually, he heard Stephen shifting, something the man always did before he became fully awake. A small groan, probably because of a headache, a potential side-effect of the sedative Tony gave him. And finally, he blinked those beautiful blue eyes open, seeming startled at the engineer observing him so closely, and the position he woke up in.

“Hey babe,” Tony began quietly, getting up slowly so as to not startle the man further. “I need you to sit up for me, alright? I know you might have a bit of a headache, or still feel a bit sleepy, so I’m just going to give you some water, and then I’ll explain everything.”

Stephen stared back at him a moment longer, before his gaze shifted to the bracelets keeping his hands together, almost as thin as the paper bands one would get in a hospital, but not nearly as fragile. Stephen swallowed, probably feeling the similar material around his throat. Tony was unprepared for the tears welling up in the doctor’s eyes, the sudden crumpling of his expression.

“W-what… did you do?” he asked, his voice hoarse with disuse. Stephen refused to move from his position laying down for the time being.

“I did what was necessary, Stephen,” Tony whispered, moving forward to wipe the man’s cheeks free of tears. He couldn’t stand to see his fiancé in pain because of him, emotional or otherwise.

Stephen choked on a sob, turning his face into the pillow as he seemed to recall the events of the past few hours. “N-no, please.” Tony wasn’t quite sure what he was begging for just yet.

“Steph? I need you to sit up, alright?” Tony laid a hand on the man’s shoulder, frowning when he flinched. Stephen would have been more subdued than normal, still under residual effects of the drug Tony gave him earlier.

Stephen glared back at Tony, the effect of it smothered by his reddened eyes and tear-stained face. Shrugging off the engineer’s hold, he struggled to gather himself into an upright position, his hands essentially tied in front of him. Eventually the doctor managed it, and leaned against the headboard, bracing himself like prey to its predator.

Stephen sighed, his head lolling a little, not having half his usual energy. “What do you _want_ from me, Anthony? What’s the endgame here?”

Tony ignored the question for a moment, lifting a glass of water to Stephen’s lips. The doctor only cringed at it, turning his face away in momentary defiance.

“Stephen, come on, you need to drink.”

“How do I know you haven’t drugged it?” Stephen snapped, glaring with barely-hidden resentment.

Tony was exasperated, to say the least. Apart from the one time Stephen was about to leave him, he’d never done anything like what the doctor was suggesting! Instead of choosing to pursue that argument however, sure it would get him _nowhere,_ Tony instead held Stephen’s gaze, before drinking half the water himself. He turned back to refill it, and held it for his fiancé once more.

Reluctantly, Stephen reached up to assist in holding it, shooting a look at Tony when he remembered the function of his hands was diminished. He drank the entire glass in one go, backing away from the engineer when he was done, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

Tony set the glass down, and pulled his chair up once more, taking a seat to regard Stephen, now conscious, still sitting on the bed, hands in his lap. _God,_ Tony loved this man.

“I’m sorry,” he began, yearning to hold his fiancé once more, help him through his distress. But for now, he recognized that might have been a little too much to force on him, and so, Tony settled for this.

Stephen scoffed, pure heartbreak reflected in the lines of his face, sorrow passing between the blues and greys of his eyes. “If you were truly sorry, you’d let me go.”

“You know I can’t do that. You know that.”

“No I _don’t,_ Tony. I don’t see why… why it had to _be_ this way. You can still save me by letting me _leave_.”

“I knew if I let you leave earlier, there may be a chance that I’d never see you again.”

“That’s not a decision only _you_ can make. What happened to being equals, partners?”

“I think you’re a little shortsighted on this, Doc. And so, I made this decision for the both of us.”

“I’m not the ‘shortsighted’ one here, Tony. Do you not see the _craziness_ of this? My hands are _literally_ tied, and after wanting to break up, instead of letting me go, you’re holding me fucking captive.”

“Please, it’s not like this is some terrible prison where I’ve left you to rot. I’m only keeping you here until you learn to see _common sense,_ that we’re in this for the long run!”

“Tony, please, my team will see there’s trouble if I start missing shifts without prior notice. There’s no way for you to keep this up! So let me go now, and the consequences could be less severe.”

“I’m not facing any consequences because I didn’t do anything wrong. And, as for your ‘team?’ They all care _much_ more about the money I could give them than you. They’re paid off, and will do what I say, _when I say it._ And let me tell you, it’s kind of nice being the one entirely in charge."

Stephen stared back at Tony, his horror on full display. Bowing his head, he whispered, “why me?”

Tony was startled by the question, to say the least. “Because you’re _perfect,_ Steph. You’re my soulmate, the one I’ve been looking for, my _whole damn life._ I’m doing this because I _love you,_ Stephen. And I know if we’re together, and we love each other, we can outlast _anything._ ”

“Well I _don’t_ love you, Anthony, not anymore,” Stephen snapped. “Not after… this.”

Tony felt his stomach flip unpleasantly. He knew this was a possibility, but...

“Didn’t you _want_ someone who cared about you? Who loved you unconditionally? Isn’t that _exactly_ what I am? What I could _be_?”

“How many times must I say this, _obsession isn’t love._ Especially with how far you are willing to go, you delusional freak!” Stephen growled, red-faced and glowering.

“ _I_ know love as devotion, and affection, and pain and heartbreak, and brilliant, and warm, and _infinite_!” Tony insisted, hurt by everything the doctor was saying. “And what you’ve said? _Hurts._ But I can forgive you, because I love you, and I know you’re hurting too.”

“I don’t _want_ your forgiveness, I want to be let go. And if you won’t allow that, then I want you to _leave._ ” Stephen refused to make eye contact at this point, gazing at the far end of their bedroom.

Tony considered the doctor a moment longer, before nodding once and standing up. “Those bracelets, they can come apart, and be brought back together at my will. So if I can trust you not to be a credible threat against me, I can make the command to detach them.”

“Oh, how _kind_ of you,” Stephen responded airily. A beat later, he spoke again, realizing what Tony was asking of him. “I won’t… be a threat towards you. Please, disengage them.”

Tony nodded once, appeased for the moment being, and notified JARVIS to follow through. The bracelets came apart with a barely discernible _snick._ “And Steph? Don’t leave the penthouse. If those pieces cross the boundary, they will cause irreparable harm to you, and I’d rather that didn’t happen. The lab is off-limits too.”

With that, Tony left Stephen in the bedroom, and he took a deep breath as soon as the door closed shut behind him. “Jar? What’s he doing now?”

“He seems to be in a state of shock, sir, and has chosen to lay back down for the time being.”

 _Thank goodness,_ Tony thought. _He could use the rest._

He himself felt wearied by the day’s events, and chose to crash on the living room couch, awaiting the moment Stephen recovered enough to leave their room and adapt to their new life. While it hadn’t gone quite as smoothly as Tony had hoped, he knew with this development, he could still be by Stephen’s side, and help the man all the way through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> The comments on the last chapter were everything, thank you so much!
> 
> Well, we've reached this point in the story, what are we thinking?
> 
> Tell me if you think it's too monotonous or not, I'm concerned about that. I just want to make this an actually cohesive story, and not something that could be read in singular, self-indulgent one-shots (no shame to those though, I just don't want this fic to become that).
> 
> Tony thinks he's doing the right thing, and JARVIS has chosen to omit the fact that Stephen, upon lying down, has burst into tears.
> 
> Comments and kudos always appreciated. Happy New Year! Wishing you a happy, healthy and safe start to 2021. 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)  
> [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	32. This New Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: non-con bondage, captivity, language!

Stephen had been laying down for what felt like days. When he woke up bound and drowsy from whatever sedative Tony had given him, he only felt contempt at himself for not getting out faster. For not trying to fight the man off more. For letting his fear get the best of him in a time when he had to think clearly about what to do next.

And now, he was trapped. With no hope of escape. And Tony had gone _insane_ in his efforts to keep Stephen here.

Apparently the billionaire had just paid off the staff at the hospital he worked at? And listened in on his and Christine’s phone call, and tracked him, monitored him, cornered him, _everything_ Stephen was afraid Tony had done confirmed in the last day and a half.

He didn’t want to leave the bedroom. It was at least a little safe, compared to whatever was awaiting him beyond those doors. What did Tony expect him to do, while he was here? Just… follow, obey, listen to his distorted form of reason? Definitively not Stephen’s style.

But Stephen had to leave at _some_ point. Tony, for now, was allowing him access to the entire penthouse. And he may as well take advantage of that before the engineer did something worse.

Sitting up in bed, he was suddenly aware of how unkempt he felt. Sleeping for some time, and being fully unconscious for longer probably does things to a person. Walking into the bathroom, he stared back at his reflection. Bloodshot eyes, a hint of a shadow, a scruffy hairdo. He sighed, running his hand under the water to test if the bracelets were waterproof. Luckily they were.

After brushing his teeth and taking a quick shower, not wanting Tony to see him in a compromised position such as that, he got dressed in sweatpants with a long-sleeved t-shirt, ignoring the outfit Tony had laid out for him while he was ‘resting.’ It consisted of a sleek blue button-up, and black slacks, with a pair of earrings, black studs. Tony apparently wanted him to look good for whatever plans he had coming up. Stephen wasn’t willing to play ball.

Exiting the bedroom, he saw a beautiful set-up for dinner, similar to how a restaurant sets their tables up. Crisp white tablecloth, candlelight, empty plates ready for food, a pair of wine glasses with the bottle between them, cutlery carefully placed on cornflower-blue cloth napkins.

Tony walked in, supposedly from the kitchen, holding a covered serving dish in the crook of his left arm, a set of tongs and a large wooden spoon in his other hand. He looked good, clearly having gelled down his fluffy hair, and changing into a classier button-up shirt and pants made from expensive material. He seemed unsurprised to see Stephen awake, meaning JARVIS was monitoring him, and perhaps alerting Tony of his status at all times.

“Hey Steph.” Tony whispered. He made his way over to the table and set down the dish in the middle, the serving tools down beside it. “Have a seat.”

Stephen wordlessly made his way over, not seeing any other choice in the matter. Sitting down in the chair Tony pulled out for him ( _such a gentleman,_ Stephen thought sarcastically), he waited until the engineer was across from him, taking the initiative to serve the both of them. Dinner was roasted potatoes and vegetables, served with red wine.

He continued to stare down Tony, who for now was avoiding his gaze. When the man finally sat down after pouring the wine, he looked up, noticing Stephen’s attire. “Didn’t like the outfit?”

“Sure, it was fine. I just figured, ‘oh, why bother dolling up, if I’m not allowed to _leave_?’ And so, in the _comfort_ of our home, I chose to wear sweats,” Stephen responded petulantly.

Tony winced at Stephen’s harsher words. “Look, babe, I get that you’re upset, but I’m at least _trying_ to make the best of this situation. Why can’t you do the same?”

Stephen couldn’t believe his ears. The fucking _nerve_ of this man to act as if he wasn’t to blame for this entire situation! “I am _refusing_ to just- just- _lay down_ at your feet while you plan out our whole lives as if my opinion doesn’t _matter,_ as if I don’t matter. There’s nothing I can do to make this better, because _I know,_ that this will only get worse, will only _ever_ get worse! I knew it from the start.”

Tony watched Stephen rant, a fire in hazel eyes and withholding a barely concealed snarl. “How _dare you_ presume that _anything_ I’ve done is entirely selfish! I am doing this _for you._ I love _you,_ and I can’t let you go.” He paused. “And if you thought this was terrible ‘from the start,’ why did you even bother to stick around?!”

“Because I thought I loved you, Tony.” Stephen saw the man inhale sharply at that. “But I’m realizing now, that’s exactly what you wanted me to think, to feel. I fell into your lap, just as you intended, and you worked to _keep me there,_ as if my life, and so many other people’s, were just objects for you to play with, and get rid of at your will.”

“No! Steph, I’ll admit, a lot of others are disposable to me, in the least polite way of putting it. But _you,_ you’re _different._ You’re brilliant, and funny, and caring, and determined, and just _incredible,_ in ways I’ve just never seen in others.”

“You seem to forget I’m also infuriatingly stubborn, and strong-willed, and willing to fight, for as long as it takes, so others learn to _do the right thing._ ”

Tony smiled half-heartedly at that, running a hand through his hair. “Luckily you and I have that in common. It’s just unfortunate we’re not on the same team for the time being.”

“Definitely unfortunate,” Stephen agreed, spearing a potato with his fork.

They ate in silence, glancing at each other often, but never at the same time. Stephen had to admit Tony’s cooking was still excellent, despite having to eat it while in captivity.

The wine paired incredibly well with the flavours of the food, Stephen downing three glasses before the meal ended from unconscious stress alone. Tony seems more than eager to offer refills, which at first Stephen thought meant the wine was drugged, but later resigned that thought when he understood Tony was just appreciating his temporary complacency.

He helped clean up afterwards, seeing as he had barely anything else to do. Tony had taken away any opportunities for Stephen to connect to the outside world, confiscating his phone and laptop as if the doctor were a misbehaving _teenager._ Of course he _would_ have used them to attempt asking for rescue, but it seemed like his captor was there first to deny him that opportunity.

Which left the television, his collection of medical textbooks, the grand piano and the at-home gym as some possibilities to slow down Stephen’s eventual descent into insanity, should he stay here much longer. And of course, spending time with Tony. Maybe enough to convince him to take off the collar, the bracelets being humiliating enough.

“Well, I’m heading down to the lab, so we probably won’t see each other until the morning,” Tony told him, wiping down the counter one last time.

“Can I come?” Stephen questioned, already standing up to follow the man.

A fleeting look of discomfort passed across Tony’s face, but before Stephen could really see it, the man had already smoothed over his features, and came to the decision it would be okay, gesturing to JARVIS with a quick nod to extend Stephen’s permissions.

The bracelet lights flashed for a moment, indicating the signal change, and the two men headed down into the lab. "What are you working on now?” Stephen asked.

Tony glanced over at the doctor, from where he was already situated at the workbench. “You might want to sit down for this.”

Stephen sat on the couch he once considered comforting, but now was associated with everything else in relation to Tony: intimidating and unpredictable. He waited patiently for the engineer to continue speaking.

“I-uh, well you know how I saved those people in Gulmira. And while we still have our disagreements on how I chose to deal with that situation, I worked on my own plans regardless.”

“Plans…?" Stephen could feel a pit in his stomach, from nerves or fear or whatever other emotional turmoil he had been experiencing since Tony had escaped from captivity.

“Yes.” Instead of continuing to speak, however, he gestured vaguely to the back wall, which opened up to reveal copies upon copies of the armour being built. Stephen stood to get a closer look, slowly moving closer without saying a word. “When people first saw my suit, they dubbed it the Iron Man, which is technically incorrect, it’s a gold-titanium alloy, but the name stuck. And so now, I have an Iron Army.”

Stephen could feel tears well up again. He was tired of crying. He looked back at Tony, gesturing to the suits. “ _Why?_ Why do you need this? What are you planning to _do_ with this?!”

Tony cringed at Stephen’s clear distress, but knew better than to try and comfort the man now through physical means. Instead, he stayed where he was. “I’m going to do better,” he said quietly.

Stephen’s jaw clenched, remembering Tony’s exasperation at the sheer number of helpless people, all while knowing he could do better. “Do better for _who_? Because with this, I can guarantee, a _lot_ more lives will be lost than saved. This-this is just _asking_ for mayhem, for destruction!”

“I am in total control of these suits! No one else can use them, abuse their power, it’s just me!”

“ _You_ could abuse their power, Tony! You’ve killed already, you’ve captured me already, you’ve ruined lives already, haven’t you had enough?!”

“These suits aren’t going to ruin anyone’s lives who don’t already _deserve_ it. And no, nothing will _ever_ be enough until I know you are completely safe, and secure, and until I know I have done my absolute best to fight the bad guys, using _everything_ I have.”

“There are no _bad guys,_ Tony. People can always do better, and it doesn’t require capital punishment to make that happen! And ‘doing your best’ means _listening to others_ too! Listen to me! Please!”

“Y’know Steph, I was thinking showing you these might be too much for you to handle, and look at that, I was right. Just— go back to the penthouse, alright?”

“Tony please…” Stephen whispered.

“Just go already, or I’ll probably say or do something I’m going to regret.”

Stephen gazed at Tony a moment longer, before heading upstairs, defeated. He just… couldn’t _imagine_ wanting to bring that kind of chaos to the world, no matter how terrible it seemed sometimes. He knew people were _good,_ and always wanted to do better, and to punish those who are already hurting? It all seemed so extreme, and unnecessary.

Before exiting the lab, however, he saw a diagram of the human figure, with various dotted points over certain parts, such as on the forearm, palm, thighs, chest, feet. And Tony’s familiar scrawl connecting these to their corresponding armour pieces. Stephen knew the armour had already been finalized, 3, 4, 5 times over, from whatever copies Tony showed him in the lab already. So what more was there for the engineer to do with this?

Glancing at the clock in the living room, he saw it was nearly 7 in the evening. Just yesterday afternoon, he had been drugged after his and Christine’s phone call. Had woken up yesterday evening with the cuffs on, talked to Tony before kicking him out of their room. Slept through the night and most of the day, getting up just in time to have an early dinner with the man. And now he was here.

Stephen scrubbed at his face, wondering how it had all gone so wrong. How many times had he ignored the signs? Or had Tony really been that good at hiding this side of himself?

Recognizing this thought process was only going to lead into some spiral of self-hatred, he picked himself up from where he had collapsed on the couch, and headed to the kitchen to make an evening snack. Coffee and those good Italian biscuits that were often sold out at the shops.

He called it another early night, and headed to bed alone. The next few weeks passed by like this. Stephen eating meals prepared by Tony, spending some time with the man, inevitably arguing, and then being alone once more. It had become a kind of routine. As _domestic and comforting_ as the engineer might have viewed this, Stephen just felt empty, this being his own personal hell.

One night he knew he wouldn’t be able to get to sleep, he brewed more coffee. Just after pouring a mug for himself, Stephen heard Tony coming into the kitchen from the hall, probably from the lab where he had been spending a lot of his time recently. Stephen took down a second mug for the man, sliding it over without a word after filling it. Tony nodded in acknowledgement, sitting on the couch in the living room, Stephen sitting beside him.

They sipped their drinks in silence, both in deep contemplation. Swallowing, Stephen was once again reminded of the mark Tony had made on his throat. “Can-can you _please_ take off the collar? I just… I’m already wearing the bracelets, this just feels _humiliating,_ ” Stephen pleaded.

Tony blanched at Stephen’s pleas, grasping the doctor’s hands in both of his own to calm him down. “Steph, I’m sorry, I don’t mean for it to humiliate you. But it’s _necessary,_ can’t you tell? I just— _can’t_ risk you leaving me.”

Stephen ripped his hands away, turning away as he tried to stifle his sobs. When Tony reached out, Stephen flinched, before shoving back the engineer with more force than he’d attacked someone with since he was a _child._ And then he hit the man’s chest again and again. “I hate you! I _hate_ you, I hate you! Let me go!” Stephen yelled, uncaring of Tony’s harsh warnings to stop.

The bracelets snapped together, throwing off the doctor’s balance as he fell forward, his face landing in the crook of Tony’s neck. He continued to mumble, his protests muffled by Tony’s shirt. He barely felt Tony take his bound hands in one of his own, the other beginning to stroke Stephen’s hair. And feeling truly helpless, Stephen sobbed, pressing closer to Tony for any comfort that could be offered.

Tony continued to whisper reassurances to Stephen, and ignoring the ache in his chest from where the doctor struck him, he only felt relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> What do I have to say about this chapter, hm. It's just more time in captivity, and Stephen is struggling, and you'll see what Tony's up to next week!
> 
> The comments on the last chapter were everything, thank you so much. I just can't believe how much support this fic gets, I'm eternally grateful.
> 
> Kudos and comments always appreciated! Wash your hands. 💛
> 
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	33. Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: injury descriptions, humiliation used as submission tactic, Stockholm syndrome symptoms

Tony could feel everything come together for him. For the first time in ages, he felt something akin to relief flowing through his veins, rather than stress or paranoia.

After Stephen’s little meltdown, the doctor finally seemed resigned to his circumstances, and stopped fighting as much as he did before, asking for things he knew Tony couldn’t give him. While he still refused to do some things Tony asked of him, he was relatively complacent, perhaps a little fearful, but that was alright in the engineer’s opinion, as long as his partner was safe.

There was one thing Tony missed, this having stopped since he prevented Stephen from leaving him. And that was Stephen wearing his engagement ring. While the bracelets and collar seemed like overkill in Tony’s methods of claiming the doctor, the ring was a symbol of peace, of mutuality, of consent. Despite everything Tony had to do to keep Stephen by his side, he could still appreciate agreement without duress.

When Tony had first noticed the man’s empty hand, crushing disappointment gripped his heart. Just when things could move forward more in their relationship, it had all been taken away, with Obadiah’s exposing Tony just before the financier was killed, and then Christine further driving Stephen away. And after sedating the doctor, he asked JARVIS where the ring was, to which the AI reported it was under a pillow in their bedroom.

Finding the ring, Tony slid it onto his left middle finger, beside his own engagement ring. He thought Stephen might be sent into _another_ panic should he wake up donning the ring once more.

Perhaps now he could make it up to the doctor in some way, get him to wear the ring in exchange for something Stephen wants. Maybe he could offer to take off the collar. While Stephen was right in saying the bracelets would be more than enough security, Tony couldn’t simply _allow_ his pleas to follow through, otherwise who _knows_ what else the man would try to get away with?

But with an _exchange,_ it still showed Tony was calling the shots. And he could perhaps be an especially _generous_ host, with Stephen’s cooperation. Newly inspired by this plan, he headed up from the lab into the penthouse, finding his partner reading another medical textbook while curled up on the couch. Tony was glad to see he was keeping busy, on the rare occasion he was left alone.

Sensing Tony entering the room, Stephen visibly tensed up, dog-earing a page before closing the book. The engineer was waiting for the day his partner would relax upon seeing him. But good things take time, he supposed. Taking a seat beside him, always wanting to be closer, Tony cleared his throat.

“I was thinking about what you said, about wanting to take off the collar.”

Stephen sat up straighter, swallowing before reaching up to touch his throat subconsciously. “Will you?”

Tony smiled at the clear hope and desperation shining in the doctor’s eyes. “I will, _if_ you do something for me,” he promised.

Stephen looked skeptical. “What do you need me to do?” he asked, his eyes narrowed.

Tony slid Stephen’s ring off his own finger, placing it in the doctor’s palm. “It’d mean the world to me if you wore this again.”

The doctor’s jaw clenched as he stared down at the gold glinting in dim lights. “I can safely say we _won’t_ be getting married anytime soon, Tony.”

The engineer’s heart dropped into his stomach. “I know, but… I miss how we used to be.”

“‘How we used to be’ was based on _lies,_ Tony. Whatever peace that existed between us was false.”

“No, Steph, we were _perfect_ together. And what relationship is _entirely_ truthful? I think that only leads to serious forms of resentment, and unnecessary conflict.”

“Oh yes, and by you _lying_ to me, we’ve clearly surpassed all that!”

“You know what? Fine. Don’t wear the ring. But now the collar’s staying on,” Tony snapped, getting up from the couch angrily before beginning to walk away.

“No wait, Tony please!” Stephen yelled out desperately. It was the subtle break in his voice that made the engineer turn around.

Stephen’s eyes darted between the ring in his hand and Tony, once, twice, three times. Coming to a decision, he slid the ring back on, despite looking like he was going to throw up while doing it. “L-look, it’s on, _please,_ it’s on.”

Tony grinned, walking back to Stephen before sitting down again. He picked up Stephen’s hand wearing the ring, and kissed it in gratitude. “You look beautiful wearing it,” he whispered reverently, wiping at the doctor’s tears streaming down his cheeks. “And a deal’s a deal. Jar?”

A quiet click was heard originating from the collar, and sliding a finger underneath, it came apart in his hand, landing in his palm as one smooth strip of malleable metal.

Stephen clutched at his bare throat, bawling. From relief or sadness, Tony couldn’t tell. He moved forward, opening his arms, offering to hold Stephen, to which the doctor leaned in, flinching at first before nuzzling against Tony’s chest.

Tony understood how stressful that decision must have been, but was ultimately glad that Stephen chose this kind of submission rather than the humiliation of the collar. Feeling the doctor calm down incrementally, he suggested they call it an early night. When Stephen nodded, Tony moved to back away, pleasantly surprised when his partner refused to let go of him.

“C-can we go together?” Stephen asked quietly. “I just— don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Yeah, of course sweetheart,” Tony responded just as softly, trying to tamp down the thrill he felt in his chest at Stephen’s admission.

Making their way to bed, Stephen curled up in the crook of Tony’s left arm, tangling their legs together in an attempt to get as close as possible. He was crying, again, which broke the engineer’s heart, but he was so happy to see it was _him_ that his partner sought consolation from.

With his right hand, Tony gripped Stephen’s left hand which was stretched over his waist, occasionally touching the ring as he passed his thumb over the doctor’s knuckles, back and forth. It had been over _three weeks_ since they had shared a bed, and this development could only mean good things, right?

Tony succumbed to sleep soon after Stephen did, lulled by steady breathing and his boyfriend’s body heat. He dreamt of two men in white suits, bright blue eyes looking into warm hazel ones, declaring their love for each other at the altar.

When he woke up, he saw Stephen had shifted to the other end of the bed. Getting up quietly, so as not to disturb the man’s slumber, he made his way down to the lab after taking a shower and brushing his teeth, attempting to maintain some sense of personal hygiene while he worked, just as a favour to his partner, if not to himself.

He had a brilliant new idea in mind. And it wasn’t just his own ego contributing to that description. But _this,_ this would be revolutionary. The armour was step one. But what were the problems with it? Consider the vulnerability of those _moments_ between arriving to the place where he could get suited up, and then the time it takes to get fully covered.

 _What if_ the suit came to him? _Exactly_ where he needed it? The helmet, the gauntlets, the chestplate, _all of it,_ in record time, sensing where he was, fitting together _perfectly_ on his person, ready for battle?

He already had the blueprints laid out, schematics written once, looked over twice. Tony had a feeling Stephen had caught a glimpse of these when Tony made the mistake of allowing the doctor to follow him to the lab. But Tony just wanted a glimpse of _normality_ between the two of them once more.

But as much as Steph was willing to cozy up to him on occasion now, he still knew the man could be prone to tantrums or even small acts of violence, Tony thought, remembering the time he had to order JARVIS to restrain Stephen after the doctor assaulted him when he refused to take off the collar. Not that the collar would be an issue anymore.

Bringing his thoughts back to the present, Tony took a seat at the workbench. Having built the micro-repeaters in advance, all he had to do was implant them. Unfortunately, he knew Stephen wouldn’t be up for helping him do so, and so he had to do them himself. Drawing the dots where they were necessary on his skin, he then braced himself for the first painful injection.

And then the next forty-seven. No one said this would be a minimalist-type process. Or easy. Tony took the tool and picked up a micro-repeater. “Alright, here we go,” and aimed it for the first spot in his leg. “One… ow!”

The pain didn’t lessen with each implantation. He had to take a towel and wipe off the blood every so often. Making his way up, the process felt tedious, but he just _knew_ it would be worth it.

“Forty-six… Agh! Forty-seven… Ow.”

“Sir, please may I request a few hours just to calibrate—”

“—No,” Tony said, interrupting the AI. “Forty-eight, agh!”

Shaking his arm to test how it felt, Tony made the request to JARVIS. “Micro-repeater implanting sequence complete.”

“As you wish sir. I’ve also prepared a safety-briefing for you to entirely ignore.”

“Which I will. Alright, let’s do this.” Tony sniffed.

He walked up to the main floor, and talked to his suits. “Hello ladies, and welcome to the birthing suite. I am pleased to announce the imminent arrival of your bouncing, bad-ass baby brother.” Instructing U, he said “start tight, then go wide. Stamp date and time.”

Speaking out again, he reported “Mark 42. Autonomous prehensile propulsion suit test. Initialize sequence.”

Facing the gauntlet on the bench ten feet from him, Tony gestured once at it. Then again. “Crap.” He bit at the implant in his arm slightly, before gesturing again. “Come on!”

The gauntlet flew right at him, sliding onto his hand evenly, followed by the shoulder pad and upper arm pieces. Next came the right gauntlet. He laughed victoriously. “Alright I think we got this. Send them all.”

One of the pieces swooped around him, which he managed to catch on his leg perfectly. The other leg pieces, the chestplate, the back pieces, the helmet, all clicked perfectly into place. The final part was the mask, flying in isolation.

“Come on, I ain’t scared of you.”

As it headed towards him, it knocked into a table, flipping upside down. Powering the gauntlets, Tony boosted off the ground, flipping himself so the mask landed perfectly in place, before he landed on one knee, one fist on the ground in front of him, his other arm outstretched behind him. “I’m the best,” he noted, vaguely distracted by the signs flashing across the screen.

After taking the armour off, Tony walked to his main desk near the far end of the lab. As of this point, papers were scattered all over it, and the computer he used to deal with various government relations and other businessmen was in the centre of the chaos. Taking a seat, he emailed Pepper an inquiry about deals with the US military, so they could stay out of his business, while he stayed out of theirs.

Ever since realizing he had the potential to change more than just small refuge sites, Tony had been keeping busy, with matters other than the armour. He was getting friendlier with certain CEOs, ambassadors, anyone who had power and money. Of course, he was usually _more_ powerful than they were, but having allies like these came in useful.

The head of Metro General, for example, now knew to keep quiet about the disappearance of two of their top neurosurgeons. Any police force located in New York was essentially under his thumb. Anyone Tony couldn’t pay off, he could threaten. The knowledge of his suits’ capabilities was spread in rumours. And Tony was _revelling_ in the newfound immunity he had pertaining to his actions.

In addition to gathering strangers, Tony had also kept his friends close. Pepper and Rhodey knew mildly of what Tony was planning, this further outreach to other states to keep the peace. While they seemed skeptical at first, they came around knowing Tony only wanted people to be safe, and understood the guilt he felt from previously contributing to the violence.

Tony hadn’t told Peter anything. Hadn’t the heart to. And _no one_ knew about Stephen. Except perhaps Christine, and whatever mysterious group she became a part of. Tony had to admit, her confidence in their abilities to remain undetected wasn’t misplaced, his own search for them proving fruitless.

Just then, JARVIS interrupted Tony’s musing. “Sir, someone has stepped into your living room, and is now conversing with your partner.”

 _Shit._ As Tony made his way up, forgetting the armour in his haste, he asked JARVIS who the person was, and how they got there. The AI answered promptly. “The woman came through a wormhole of some kind, the opening located somewhere in Nepal, according to my readings. Her identity is not present in any of my databases.”

Tony burst into the living room, seeing the woman for the first time. She was wearing large yellow robes, looking almost regal with the scars apparent on her smooth head. She was waving a glowing hand above Stephen’s wrists, where the bracelets were, the doctor having a panicked look on his face.

“What the _hell_ is happening here?” Tony growled.

The woman glanced at Tony slightly panicked, before looking back to Stephen with more urgency. “You have to leave with me, _now,_ ” she insisted.

“Please, the bracelets,” Stephen begged, pulling away from her and the portal. He looked over at Tony, seeming terrified at the engineer once more.

Tony gestured toward the lab, arm outstretched. The gauntlet slid onto his arm not a minute later, which he aimed back at the woman. The doctor seemed startled at the new innovation, from where he was standing between Tony and whoever the lady was.

“Stephen, back away from her,” Tony warned, not wanting to harm his partner.

“Stephen, please, I know you have no reason to trust me, but if you ever have any chance of leaving, this is it,” the woman said, having stepped back into the portal.

Glancing at his hands and back at Tony, Stephen seemed to sum up all his courage, before taking a deep breath and backing into the portal, gasping in pain and collapsing onto his knees at the woman’s feet once the bracelets detected they were out of bounds and subsequently destroyed his hands.

“Stephen no!” Tony took a shot aiming for the woman, too late to reach anyone as the portal closed behind them, cutting off Stephen’s cries, and the beam crashed through the floor-to-ceiling window.  
Suddenly, Tony was alone, glass strewn on the ground around him. It crunched under his feet as he moved, the sound echoing through the otherwise silent penthouse.

In shock, he strode back down to the lab, wondering how and _why_ that woman would steal the love of his life, where she took him, and what he could do to get Stephen back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> This chapter? A LOT happened. I wrote it over a week ago, so I kind of forgot what happened until going over it just now to put italics in, ha.
> 
> I just-- love, love the support this fic gets. I'm really glad y'all like reading the weekly chapters! Kudos and comments are always appreciated! Wash your hands. 💛
> 
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	34. Kamar Taj

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: description of canon-compliant injury

Coming back to consciousness, Stephen felt a familiar numbness over his entire being. It was similar to the time he had broken his arm in the eighth grade, and had just woken up from surgery, still under the warm weight of sedatives running through his veins. Of course, it was also similar to the time he’d woken up in Tony’s bedroom, after Christine’s phone call and… everything that came after.

Alongside feeling mildly hazy, he also noticed the oddest feeling of his hands being… suspended? With great effort, he opened one eye, than the other, groaning at the effort it took. The world was revealed in a blur, coming into focus in gradual increments.

Any drug-induced comfort he had been feeling moments before disappeared, as horror shocked him back to reality. In front of him were a pair of hands, connected to arms that looked like his, coming from his general direction. Except, he could tell these were hurt. Badly. Enough for splints and stitches and other medical horrors meant to make everything _better._

But where were his hands? He couldn’t feel them. Staring ahead, he clenched his jaw, trying to wiggle his thumbs to at least indicate he still had them. And then the hands in front of him, those thumbs _moved,_ a burst of pain shooting up his wrists at the same time. He tried again, and they moved with him, more pain. Which meant… those grotesque, patch-worked, evenly-scarred hands… those were _his._

But, this couldn’t be real, this couldn’t— his _hands,_ they had to be fine, they needed to be _okay._ Stephen could barely hear the heart monitor beeping faster over his own growing panic. _What happened,_ what went so wrong? He couldn’t remember, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t—

“Stephen! I’m going to need you to calm down, okay? Breathe with me, it’s going to be alright,” a woman’s voice echoed to him from some distance away. Stephen tried to close in on it, tried to grab onto anything while he could still tell he was spiralling.

“Okay, in one, out two, with me, Stephen,” the voice soothed. He followed as best as he could, his eyes scrunched shut to spare himself from the grotesque sight for the moment being.

Slowly he felt himself coming back to the present, the shakiness of his breathing being the only sign of the massive panic attack he had suffered moments before.

“Good, Stephen, you’re doing well. Why don’t you open your eyes for me?” _Wait._ That voice sounded so familiar. But it wasn’t the woman who got him out of Tony’s penthouse, it was…

“Christine?” Stephen blinked his eyes open, searching out her face while pointedly avoiding the sight of his injuries. His ex smiled back at him, her eyes also shiny with tears.

“Yeah, I’m here,” she responded, before leaning in for a hug Stephen couldn’t reciprocate.

“Are you alright?” he asked first, remembering the last time they spoke, their phone call. He looked around the room, which had wood-panelled walls, an ornately carved door, and the hospital bed he was in looking grossly out of place. “Where are we?”

“I’m okay. This place… actually saved me. They said they were waiting for you.”

“Me? Wait, what? Who’s ‘they?’” He had so many questions, of how he got here, how _Christine_ got here, where they were, what happened after escaping… his mind was spinning every which way.

Just then, the woman he saw back at the penthouse, who had arrived there by a _portal_ of some kind, entered the room. “Doctor Strange, I see you’re finally awake. How are you feeling?”

_Finally?_ “How long have I been asleep?” Stephen chose to ask, rather than answer the question. In all honesty, he had no idea how he was feeling.

“It’s been 36 hours since you’ve left Stark’s penthouse, that being the more important information here. You blacked out from the pain of the cuffs shortly after, and were then operated on in our medbay. The operation took about 12 hours, and you’ve been asleep since.”

_12 hours?_ Stephen strained to turn his gaze back to his hands, already giving up on the hope this was some elaborate prank, or even a dream. “W-what did he _do_?” He croaked, tears building up once more.

“The bracelets did exactly what Tony intended, harm you enough to incapacitate you without killing you. I’m sure the collar you once had would have done something similar,” the woman responded, almost robotically with how calm she sounded.

“H-how did you know I had…” Stephen swallowed, his face burning from humiliation. “How’d you know he used a collar?”

“Well it’s like Christine said. We’ve been waiting for you, and we want to help.”

Stephen looked to his friend for confirmation. Christine nodded, gesturing to the woman. “Stephen, meet The Ancient One. Her and the other members of Kamar Taj came to my rescue after Tony let me go, and we’ve been planning to save you ever since. And… you might have already seen some of their surreal abilities. We’re going to use them to fight him back.”

He looked back to his hands. “Did you know?” he whispered.

“What?” Christine asked, confused.

“Did you _know_?! That my hands would be destroyed?!” he yelled, turning back to the Ancient One.

She only looked regretful in response. “I knew that would be a possibility, yes.”

His vision blurred as the tears began to spill over, turning back to his suspended hands in defeat. “Then _why_ didn’t you do anything to stop him? I _saw_ what you could do, so why can’t you do anything _now_?” he asked brokenly.

“I’m sorry, Stephen. But it had to happen this way. We had Christine prep for your surgery at the point I went to help you escape, to help lessen the damage.”

“ _Look_ at them, _Ancient One,_ ” Stephen scowled. “Does it _look_ like the damage was lessened?”

“You could have lost any function they had entirely, Stephen,” Christine said, trying to soothe him, and lessen the blame he had misdirected at the Ancient One. “And you’re forgetting who’s really the cause of this, it’s _Tony,_ and no one else.”

Stephen refused to make eye contact with anyone, closing his eyes and laying back in defeat. “Just leave me alone,” he whispered.

The room fell into silence, the two women in the room coming to some silent agreement before he heard the room’s door open and then close. His mind was spinning with everything he’d learnt in the past hour, and his emotions were even more out of control.

Needing to ground himself, he opened his eyes once more, startled to see Christine still sitting there. “You know, I won’t be very good company for a _while,_ ” he warned.

She smiled tiredly. “I know. But I’ve missed you. And I think you deserve a little more than to be left alone for the time being.”

Christine’s half-defeated expression reminded Stephen that as much had happened to him, that didn’t lessen the harm Tony had caused for other people. His ex did say things about being threatened, being held captive, knowing about Stark for so much longer than Stephen had.

“I’ve missed you too,” he elected to say, smiling back numbly. “Tell me more about this place,” he added, not having the energy to contribute too much to their conversation.

Christine perked up at that, seemingly glad to move away from the dark topic that was the existence of Tony Stark and his influence. “I was let go by Tony not long after he came back from Afghanistan. He called it a ‘mercy.’ Before I could head back home, I was approached by The Ancient One, similarly to how you were. She just… came out of seemingly nowhere, and took me here.”

Stephen and Christine shared a smile at the unorthodox introduction to that mysterious woman. “So where is ‘here?’”

“Like I mentioned before, this is Kamar Taj. Which is actually in Kathmandu.”

“W-w-wait, Kathmandu? Like… Nepal?” Stephen asked, stupefied at that revelation.

“Yeah. I know it sounds unbelievable, but well, you’ll learn a lot of things are more extraordinary than you could ever imagine.” She paused, smiling at a memory. “I remember, when they first brought me here, one of the other sorcerers said I should just ‘forget everything I think I know.’ And for as long as I’ve been here? I can say that advice should definitely be taken to heart.”

He smiled at her rambling, remembering all the good times they had before Tony had entered their lives, whether they were in the wild and raucous stages of friendship, or the even crazier stages of something less platonic. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he mused.

A lull settled over the conversation, as they returned back to the comfort between them which had been lost so long ago. And apparently easily regained.

Some weeks passed, and his hands were removed from where they were suspended, wrapped up in clean white bandages for further healing processes. When he asked about any alternative healing methods, any resident’s answer there was kept short and vague, leading Stephen to the conclusion that his hands might be forever plagued with those tremors and angry red scars.

When weeks became months, Stephen was then able to leave the room, no longer feeling as weak as he did when he first arrived. Perhaps the bracelets had taken a larger toll on his energy than just where they were located on his wrists.

It was difficult to tell what pain of his was mental or physical, everything becoming slowly intertwined. The occasional news article he saw only made things worse, as new reports of Tony’s influence and power increased with every coming day. And journalists made the mistake of glorifying his Iron Man suit as something innovative, elegant, and powerful. Tony’s quest to find Stephen was called ‘noble,’ only highlighting Tony’s great concern for his _fiancé_ , with great rewards in store for anyone who had information.

Walking around with Christine, he saw elegant fighters in the courtyard, and had his own physical therapy take place there. When it became incredibly frustrating, he would often snap at his instructor, and Christine would step in to deescalate the situation. But how else was Stephen supposed to feel, when his therapist insisted he show them his strength? He had tremors, and pain, and anger, no strength in sight.

He didn’t get to talk with the Ancient One for some time. Instead, he got to meet other sorcerers, including the very stone-faced librarian Wong, who didn’t bother to laugh at his jokes, or even humour Stephen with a smile. And then there was Mordo, who was strong, and elegant, and obviously very skilled at combat and whatever mystical maneuvers were part of daily training at Kamar Taj.

Not being strong enough to train yet, Stephen leaned against a column, sitting on the dirt floor facing the courtyard. His hands were always the figurative elephant in the room, preventing any comforting touch, any attempt at a hug celebrating their reunion, any wild gestures he could have made in conversation without risking unnecessary pain. What did the Ancient One say? _It had to happen this way._

“Christine?” A _hmm?_ in response, from where she was leaning against him, also sitting down on the ground. “You said they— that these people were waiting for me. What did you mean by that?”

“That’s exactly it, I don’t know much past that. The Ancient One, she can be _especially_ cryptic when she wants to be. She’ll never give you a straight answer if she doesn’t think you deserve one. But there’s been talk among the other people here, that you’re especially important to fighting against Tony.”

Stephen swallowed. _Fighting?_ He was a pacifist, he couldn’t just— abandon all sense of his morality for the goals of these… strangers! “I’m not so sure about that,” he mumbled. “But she did say it had to be this way, which means she has _some_ way of looking ahead and knowing what’s going to happen. Can’t _she_ be the one to deal with this then?”

Christine shrugged. “I don’t know, Stephen, I’m sorry. I don’t think they’re expecting you to blindly follow anything while you’re here, of course, but… I do trust them. I can’t say why, but I do. I know they have good intentions, and while I’ve been here, their actions reflect that.”

“She let my hands get _destroyed,_ Christine. Does that reflect whatever ‘good intentions’ she has?” He nearly yelled, sitting up straighter to make a point.

Christine also sat up, turning around to face Stephen more directly. “Yes, I think it _does._ The alternative was leaving you in the penthouse with that _monster,_ or worse, letting you lose your life in worser ways. Some things just… can’t be fixed.”

Stephen felt himself flinch at that possibility. “Life without my hands—”

“—Is still life,” she interrupted. “This isn’t the end. There could be better things, and you are still alive, and now you have me, and everyone else here. And you’re going to get through this.”

“How do you _know_ that?” Stephen asked wearily. His moods seemed to change on the turn of a dime during his whole time here, which was beginning to get exhausting.

“Because you’re stubborn, and angry, and _good._ You are still a good person, and I know, this is just another part of life that will make you stronger. And it would be… spectacularly disappointing, if you were to just let Tony have his way with you, and everyone else you care about, without even _trying_ to make things better again. That’s not the Stephen I know.”

Acknowledging Christine’s words, he leaned back once more, feeling Christine sink down beside him. He still felt tired, but now it was with less resignation, and more determination. Tony Stark was reigning terror, and deep down, Stephen knew he was one of the only ones that had a chance against him.

“Alright. I guess it’s time to talk to the Ancient One.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> Christine was super fun to write in this chapter, I hope you liked her characterization, and her conversations with Stephen.
> 
> We've got *hints* of Stark's regime expanding, what do we think about that?
> 
> I have to thank you tons for the support on the last chapter. I love seeing your reactions to the story's progression.
> 
> I was considering a hiatus for this fic, until April. It might still happen, since uni's crazier this term, but I really do enjoy writing this, and I think it's a good break from the dull monotony of consistent study. And I also love your enthusiasm reading my chapters!
> 
> So... instead I'm thinking changing my update schedule to a new chapter every two weeks, probably still on Saturdays. They'll probably be a bit longer since I'll have more time to write. Which means the next chapter would come out Feb 6. :)
> 
> Kudos and comments always appreciated. Wash your hands. 💛 
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)   
>  [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	35. The Ancient One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: minor character death, non-graphic description of injury, description of chronic pain

In the end, it was actually the Ancient One that came to Stephen, although he had taken to calling her Tao for short. His own inquiries about her _actual_ name were pushed aside, as she continued to be more cryptic than ever during his stay at Kamar Taj.

On yet another day when Stephen watched the trainers in the courtyard, walked along the corridors aimlessly, and spent a good deal of time talking with Christine, he felt Tao’s presence in front of him. He was in his room, just reading yet another book he had borrowed under Wong’s watchful eye.

“Uh, hi?” he prompted, looking up after checking the page number so he could resume reading later.

“ _Mysteries of the Soul,_ that’s an excellent read,” Tao said, nodding towards the book cover.

“Yeah, it’s a bit convoluted, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out,” he answered, unsure of where this conversation was going.

“I’m sure you will,” she responded cooly, always seeming to know more about him then she let on. “I’ve a good mind to start your training as soon as possible, but I just wanted to ask you if you were ready.”

“My training?” Stephen asked, trying to hide the anticipation in his voice. Based on Tao’s barely-hidden grin, he hadn’t succeeded. He had been trying to ask her for _ages_ when she thought he’d be ready to start, knowing she was in charge, and no one else really had a say in the matter.

She, however, hadn’t given him the time of day for this conversation since he’d first gotten to Kamar-Taj. It was as if she was a ghost, flitting through the hallways and just out of sight when Stephen spotted her. He understood she was busy, but it still hurt to be avoided by one of the only authority figures in the place.

But now, his time had finally come, and he wouldn’t squander this moment that was long-awaited.

“Yes, your training,” she repeated, still with that easy smile. “I know you’ve been curious about why we’ve brought you here, and I’m sure Christine hasn’t been very helpful in filling in the blanks. I’m letting you know now, we’ve intentionally kept her in the dark about certain things. It would only prove futile to give you all the information at once.”

“I’m sure,” Stephen responded dryly. “So, can I ask you questions now?”

The Ancient One looked at him almost teasingly. “You can ask me anything. I just can’t always guarantee answers,” she concluded.

He sighed, already exasperated at her enigmatic choice of words. “So, I know this is a place of sorcerers, and _magic,_ and all the mystical things you wouldn’t think possible. I know your advice to everyone is to just forget everything they think they know,” he began. “I want to know why I’m here. And how you knew I should be here,” he paused. “Like this,” he gestured to his hands.

“You’re here as part of your purpose, Stephen. You would only gain insight into your future by living it, I’m afraid. And as for the condition of your hands, well, there are necessary evils.”

“I can’t help but think I’m no more than a speck within an indifferent universe, Tao. As much as I’d like to believe this ‘chosen one,’ holistic ideal of influencing people’s lives and choices, I really don’t think I hold that much power here,” he snarked, getting annoyed with her answers.

“You think too little of yourself.”

“No, I really _don’t._ So, how about we get a little less implicit with my _purpose,_ and you can just, I don’t know, help me out, in a way I understand, for a change?”

She grimaced at his tone. “Stephen, I understand you’re upset. But we have bigger issues than your own _ego_ here. Maybe think, that it’s not about _you,_ for a change?”

He flinched, getting his words thrown back at him. He stared at her, before looking down and conceding defeat. “Alright. Why are you here, then? We’re beginning my training?”

“That was the plan, yes. You’ll be doing readings with Wong, martial arts with Mordo, and private magic lessons with me, all while you continue your physical therapy.”

He nodded, his sour mood previously forgotten in lieu of excitement for something _new_ and different and exciting! “Alright. Is Christine going to begin training as well?”

“I’m afraid not. She has another purpose to fulfill, that would not involve becoming a master in sorcery. You, however, will find you have a gift for this,” she said, as if remembering a memory.

Stephen grinned at that. “I thought you weren’t supposed to tell me anything about my future here.”

Tao smiled back. “Let’s just call it intuition, yes? You’ll begin tomorrow.”

He nodded solemnly, before looking back up at her, his eyes glinting playfully. “Sounds like a plan.”

When his schooling actually began, he started with Wong in the library. While it wasn’t officially used for lessons, they seemed to make the acceptance for Stephen, understanding he had a higher calling than most of the sorcerers there. Stephen did his best not to let this get to his head, which was made infinitely easier by all the teasing Christine did once she noticed his special treatment. And of course, occasionally dropping a book because it was too heavy was both a humbling and humiliating experience at once.

These lessons were mainly done in silence, Wong and Stephen reading their respective texts unless the latter had a question about a theory he’d read that he couldn’t grasp. While he barely asked for help in his normal life, he was always eager to learn more, and that often outshined his pride.

His coaching with Mordo was mildly harder. Despite spending months in recovery, Stephen still felt himself being much weaker than he was before the whole incident happened with his hands. He’d had to do much of his own strength-building off-hours, going on runs once more, doing exercises he knew would help build up his muscle mass. While it was disheartening witnessing how his strength had diminished, Stephen still felt himself getting better, and for now, that was good enough.

Mordo was passionate, determined, and incredibly strong. In one practice fight against him, Mordo had yelled at Stephen to “fight! Fight like your life depends on it!” Getting behind Stephen, Mordo kicked him down to the ground, pointing the end of his staff at the doctor’s face. “Because one day, it may,” Mordo continued solemnly.

Stephen’s lessons with the Ancient One were the most difficult. While Wong’s lessons were mainly theory, and Mordo’s physical strength, Tao’s lessons had to do with the mind, and manipulating energy in ways most people could barely comprehend, Stephen himself included.

He was introduced to the sling ring by her, in one of their occasional lessons that wasn’t one-on-one. Trying to picture Metro General in his mind, knowing his apartment was most likely being watched at all times, Stephen only saw sparks ahead of him, while it seemed everyone around him could open those portals with such ease. He couldn’t help but feel a little sick, the last time him seeing these being the time he escaped from Tony’s captivity.

Tao dismissed the rest of the class, and told Stephen to come with her.

“My hands,” he tried explaining.

“It’s not about your hands,” Tao responded.

“How is this not about my hands?” Stephen tried asking.

“Master Hamir?” Tao prompted, stopping the man who was walking past them. Without a word, the man unveiled his wrists, showing one of his hands was entirely gone. He mimicked the gestures Stephen had been taught twelve times, over, only this time, Hamir manifested that energy seemingly effortlessly. 

“Thank you Master Hamir,” Tao said, dismissing the man. “You cannot beat a river into submission. You have to surrender to its current, and use its power as your own.”

“I control it by surrendering control? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Not everything does. Not everything has to. Your intellect has taken you far in life, but it will take you no further. Surrender, Stephen. Silence your ego, and your power will rise,” Tao explained, opening a gateway with the expectation that Stephen would follow her.

Of course, he did. He could feel the extreme temperature of wherever she was taking him, before he had fully stepped through. Following her further, he felt the winds whip through his hair, and could barely see through the ever-extending white covering the mountains. “Wait. Is this…?”

“Everest,” she answered, finishing his sentence for him. “Beautiful,” she observed, seemingly uncaring of the freezing climate.

“Yeah, right, beautiful,” he answered, stepping out further to see the view. After all, how many times could one actually enjoy the view from Everest in person? “Freezing, but beautiful,” he added.

“At this temperature, a person can last for 30 minutes before suffering permanent loss of function,” Tao yelled out, the winds swallowing the volume of her voice in the process.

“Great,” Stephen said, unsure why she was telling him this.

“But you’ll likely go into shock within the first two,” she said with finality, walking away from him.

“What?!”

“Surrender Stephen,” she instructed, almost in a sing-song manner, walking through the portal before it closed behind her.

“No! No no no!” he yelled, trying to dive for the gateway, but only landing among the snow and remaining sparks of the Ancient One’s magic.

He suddenly found himself quite alone, the sound of his shuddering breath and the whistling wind the only thing he could hear. He got up, and tried to make a gateway back to the _warm_ courtyard of Kamar Taj. Again, there were only sparks.

Stephen yelled in frustration, giving up for a moment as he observed his surroundings, trying to catch his breath in the thinner air. Sighing, he looked down, before considering Tao’s words. _Surrender, Stephen._

Raising his arms once more, he made the circling motion with his right hand, the dull gold of the sling ring stark against his scarred fingers. Seeing the gateway circle actually _forming,_ he fell through it, landing right at the feet of Tao in a shivering mess. Just before he collapsed from relief, he saw the pride in her face, giving him a warm feeling in his chest.

As his training continued, Stephen finally felt Kamar Taj as being some sense of home. While he occasionally annoyed his teachers by taking some of his lessons into his own hands, he was still having fun, and not breaking anything that couldn’t be fixed, as far as he knew anyway. He had even shaved, but instead of shaving everything off, he shaped it around his mouth and under his nose, in a look he kind of liked. It was to celebrate becoming a Master, though he still preferred to be called ‘doctor.’

However, when he wasn’t studying, or in practice, or kept busy in _some_ way, shape or form, his nights would be painful. Curled up pitifully in bed, he had both his hands pressed against his chest, hoping their sudden flare-up would end sometime soon. He wasn’t quite sure what had triggered the onslaught of pain, but at this point, it didn’t quite matter.

Stephen had come to the conclusion, some time ago, that no surgery, or experimental technique, or even _magic_ could work to cure his hands. And that any attempt at aggravating the situation further for a pipe dream such as that would prove to have severe, unknown consequences. Already glad he had gotten away with his life, he decided not to push his luck.

That didn’t mean that living with this disability would suddenly become any easier. He still ate with his hands more often than not, the easy use of cutlery now a thing of the past. He wore outfits without small buttons or difficult fastenings, which were luckily easy to find amid the vast robes-donning community.

Underneath all these major adjustments, Stephen was infuriated with Tony for altering his life to become this in the first place. On days when all the doctor wanted to do was go to sleep and never wake up again, he’d make himself think of blame, and anger, and project it all on his ex. Because Stephen knew it was easier to live with hatred of someone else than to live with hatred of himself.

Christine had helped with Stephen’s own insecurities, and worked with him to understand that his injuries were not his fault. But there would always be that seed of doubt planted in his head, courtesy of the billionaire himself, that he could have done _more,_ that he could have fought, protested, done anything more than what Stephen actually did in reality.

It all seemed so simple, at a certain point. To be the submissive, even under duress. To follow along with Tony and his demands, since there didn’t seem to be any other choice. Thinking back on the time, Stephen could think of one, two, ten things he could have done differently, said differently, _endured_ longer, fought harder, been _better._

He knew, however, that he had done his best in the worst possible circumstances. Trying to abide by his own pacifist ideals, and operating under the shock of what Tony had done to him, and continued to do without any hope of change, Stephen knew he had done his best. And this was the end result, which he could spend time regretting, or just try to move on.

Trying to curl in even more on himself, Stephen didn’t want to complain about how badly his hands were hurting. While trying to preserve his pride was hopeless at this point, he still felt like a burden, and being helped by someone else only made him feel more useless. The rational side of his brain knew no one there would judge him for it, everyone being acutely aware of Tony’s past and continuing crimes, but it was easily taken over by his irrational ego and piling self-doubt.

While Stephen tried to stifle his sounds of anguish, he didn’t notice the sound of his bedroom door opening, too lost in the pain of his own mind and body. What did alert him to a new presence in the room was the quiet sound of someone speaking his name.

“Tao?” he whispered, trying to keep his tears at bay.

“Yes, it’s me, Stephen.” A pause. “I could sense your pain from across the building.”

_How embarrassing,_ Stephen thought, feeling himself flush from humiliation. “Oh. S-Sorry,” he responded, not quite sure what else he could say.

“Stephen.” A sigh, before she moved to sit on the side of his bed. “I don’t want you to be sorry, I want you to be able to ask for help. You’ll find that to be an extraordinarily useful skill in your future.”

“M-My future?” He found himself stuttering through the pain shooting up his wrists.

“That’s a conversation for another time, Dr. Strange. Now ask me.”

“Ask you w-what?” He was struggling to keep up with their conversation. Hell, it was difficult to talk with the Ancient One on a good day, never mind one when he was riddled with agony.

She only continued to stare at him, patiently waiting for him to come to an answer himself.

He realized what she wanted soon enough. “I…” he trailed off. Clearing his throat, he began again. “I-I… need help. P-Please,” he managed to say, before choking out a sob, tightly shutting his eyes to hide himself from her expression, whatever it may be.

He could feel her eyes on him, nevertheless. Then she spoke. “I can help you, Stephen. I’m going to touch you, is that alright?”

Stephen felt a wave of panic, and he looked back at her with wide eyes. “N-No, I don’t— I can’t,” he began to splutter out, trying to keep his hands as close to him as possible.

Tao raised both her hands in a calm gesture, as if surrendering. “I need you to calm down, it’s alright,” she soothed. “I’m not going to touch your hands if you don’t want me to. But how about,” she paused. “Your head?”

_My head?_ “You’re not trying to control my mind here, are you?” He quipped, not able to help it.

She smiled warmly at Stephen’s skepticism, with slight amusement at his naiveté. “No, of course not. I’m just going to alter some of your negative energy into something more neutral, to help alleviate the pain.”

“So like holistic painkillers,” he summed up, trying to associate her words with his own knowledge.

She grinned at that. “Sure. And just like painkillers, this will only be temporary. But I do think you could do with the extra peace tonight, don’t you?”

Stephen stared back at her, mulling over her offer. He couldn’t think of anything that could go wrong with this, and Christine trusted Tao, so in turn, Stephen trusted Tao as well. “Alright,” he answered, closing his eyes again.

He could feel her shift forward on the bed, before feeling her hand on his forehead. “Sleep,” she whispered, sending warmth through his whole body, and calming the shaking of his hands. Stephen felt moments of peace, perfectly empty-minded before succumbing to the soothing sensations Tao was casting through him.

His sleep was heavy and unbroken, for the first time in what felt like ages. He dreamt of nothing, feeling calm and secure under Tao’s influence.

When he woke up, Tao was gone. The first thing he noticed was the sun shining through his bedroom window, the curtains fluttering in the light breeze. Realizing something, Stephen sat up, before looking down at his hands. They still shook, but didn’t hurt _nearly_ as much as they usually did, meaning they weren’t the first thing he noticed after waking up.

He smiled, moving to get out of bed, not bothering to make it up. It was an old habit he’d had since he was a teenager, never seeing the point in tidying it when you were just going to sleep later (or not sleep). He brushed his teeth, got dressed in another tunic and pants, and headed to the main hall of Kamar Taj for breakfast, hoping to find Tao so he could thank her for the spell.

Just as he exited his room, however, that was when he heard the screams. He ran down the hallway and down the stairs, seeing fires started in the main hall and sorcerers running around chaotically, being chased by… drones? The relics usually stored neatly away were scattered, a bright red cloak coming to sit on his shoulders. Stephen had no idea what was happening, but he needed to find Tao to figure out what was going on. And hopefully he could protect Christine in the process.

Running into the courtyard, he was nearly shot, before the cloak pulled him away. It was already so loyal to him. The shot came not from another machine, but from… “Tony?”

The engineer turned around, smiling maniacally at Stephen. “Steph! I missed you. I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you, or I wouldn’t have taken the shot, are you hurt?”

Tony’s armour looked new, more advanced. He had several of Stephen’s peers, including Christine, as his hostages, aiming a gauntlet at them threateningly. But the man himself seemed to have changed as well. He seemed more tired, more angry, more loving. As if he no longer had to hide.

“Stark, I— how did you find me? What are you doing? You’re hurting people!”

Tony pouted, reaching into a little section of his gauntlet to reveal Stephen’s engagement ring. “Did you forget about this? I’ve known where you were for _months,_ but I figured, a little time apart might actually do us some good. Maybe you’d come back to me. Clearly, that didn’t happen. You’re looking good by the way. We match,” he added, gesturing to his own facial hair.

Stephen felt like ice water had been poured down his back. _The damned ring!_ He had forgotten about it, half-assuming it had been disposed of during his surgery. And he had thus exposed Kamar Taj.

“Please, let them go. What do you want?” Stephen asked, panicked.

Tony gazed at him, with all the longing in the universe. “I just want you. I said I’d always have you, and this is me fulfilling that.”

Stephen looked around, seeing the disaster Tony’s invasion had unsheathed. “Alright,” he swallowed. “You have me,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. He thought he might be able to escape from Tony’s captivity later, just as soon as he knew everyone was safe again at Kamar Taj.

Tony seemed relatively appeased, lowering his gauntlet before nodding at another one of his drones to escort the hostages away from the courtyard. Stephen spared one last look at Christine, her face panicked as he tried to reassure her wordlessly.

“Wait, Stephen no!” Tao yelled, having run into the courtyard behind him.

Tony grabbed Stephen in a headlock, appearing undeterred by the doctor’s loose grip struggling against his hold. Tony raised a gauntlet at Tao, his expression grave. “I know who you are, _Ancient One._ And I’ve already let you take him away from me once. It won’t happen again.”

And then Stephen heard the shot. As if in slow-motion, Tao looked down at her chest, where red bloomed from the centre. She fell, and Stephen fought against Tony to go to her, yelling and bucking against the man, unaware of his own actions as shock took over his body. Tony let go of him, and Stephen crawled to her, barely feeling his ex’s presence behind him.

“H-h-hey Tao? You’re alright, stay with me,” he stuttered, barely seeing her through his tears, trying to put pressure on the wound with his weaker hands.

Tao only looked back up at him, tears pooling in her eyes as she smiled. “I-It’s alright, Stephen. This was meant to happen. The cloak can protect you,” she whispered, pushing her sling ring into his hand, before holding his hand close to her chest. “Y-you are going to do _g-great_ things,” she reassured him, before her eyes closed, and her grip slackened, a faint smile still on her face.

Stephen sniffled as more tears streamed down his cheeks, before bursting into loud sobs as he hunched over her body. “No, _please,_ Tao, you’re alright, you have to be alright, please!”

He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder, and Stephen shrugged himself away from it. “Leave me _alone,_ ” he hissed, not needing Tony to interfere with his mourning. The weight of his loss was already too much to handle, as he felt his chest constrict painfully with grief.

“I’m sorry, but it had to happen. She would have taken you away from me,” Tony said apologetically.

“No,” Stephen whispered. “I would have taken me away from you.”

In a smooth motion, Stephen opened a gateway and sent the man through, shutting it closed without once glancing back. The drones in the courtyard dropped, lifeless without their controller. Standing up with a heavy heart, he looked at the people gathered in the courtyard. They knew what Stephen knew. He was now Sorcerer Supreme.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> First, I just want to say how grateful I am to have an audience as understanding as you are. The comments on the last chapter were so nice to see, not just relating to the fic but also to the changed update schedule.
> 
> Second, we've got this new chapter! As promised, it is longer than usual. What do y'all think? I hope this was worth the wait.
> 
> Tao has died, Tony had known where Stephen was all along, gasp! And also the Cloak's here!
> 
> I liked writing the Ancient One, I know sometimes she's a bit ooc, but I also feel in the movie, she was kind of just there before she wasn't. So I wanted Stephen to have someone to rely on before bad things happened.
> 
> Kudos and comments always appreciated! Wash your hands. 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)  
> [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	36. New Management

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: non-graphic descriptions of mass murder

It had started and ended, all so _quickly._ His grand reunion with Stephen, _ruined,_ because the man had suddenly become a master at whatever magic tricks the Ancient One had taught him.

Tony had been busy, to say the least. After Stephen had been taken away (Tony refused to acknowledge the fact that Stephen might have willingly left him), the engineer had gotten to work straight away, both in pursuit of getting his boyfriend back, and using his newfound power to actually make some change for the people he _knew_ had suffered too long.

For once, he chose the path of getting help, rather than attempting to do everything on his own. Pepper had been _crucial_ in swaying certain lawmakers to lift certain regulations, making room for Tony’s lab and exploits to innovate freely.

Rhodey had stepped in with ideas on distributing weapons to teams Tony had newly set up along to borders of New York, which he hoped would extend farther at some point. Rhodes also had some leverage with heads of the U.S military, schmoozing enough to allow Stark industries to hire soldiers for new immediate training, food and board provided.

Peter had been the most difficult to convince. While Pepper's and Rhodes’ attitudes were already jaded by their long years serving in the weapons industry, and therefore could believe in Tony’s new ideas of fairness and justice, Peter was still young, and still preciously optimistic.

_“Mr. Stark, I’m not sure I understand. You want to… protect people using your weapons?”_

_“Only when it’s necessary, Underoos. Aren’t you tired of seeing the endless homeless people on the street? Aren’t you tired of the petty crimes, and the rich big-wigs who couldn’t care less about the little guy?”_

_“I suppose, Mr. Stark, but I’m not sure this is the best way to fix things. Unless you think so, of course!”_

_“Y’know, I see your point. But, other options right now work too slowly, or aren’t good enough. People are dying as we speak, suffering unnecessarily! Why stand idle when you could actually do something about it? I just want to help people, don’t you,’ friendly neighbourhood Spider Man?’”_

_“Y-yeah. I guess. Alright. What do you need me to do?”_

Luckily, the kid’s trust in Tony surpassed his own moral compass, which for once, Tony was glad for. The more people on his side, the better. And he knew, in his heart, that he was doing the right thing. While Stephen might have called his actions something like ‘corrupting the kid,’ Tony knew he was just teaching Peter the difference between right and wrong. He wasn’t going to apologize for that.

Peter was essential for publicly endorsing Tony’s expanding power. By this point, the lovely citizens of New York had noticed the changes being made around the borders and throughout its major cities. Certain governors had suddenly found their bank accounts empty, while others got richer by the day. It all depended on how much they agreed with Tony’s new ideas and inventions.

Therefore, as Tony had learned from the marketing team of Stark Industries several years before, a friendly face helped to soothe the masses. If _this_ person, so obviously a kid with good intentions, believed in Stark’s innovations, well, it _must_ be alright! They had dubbed his regime “The Stark Authority,” and acknowledging the power the name held, Tony decided to roll with it.

Tony had swayed New York’s senators into enacting laws he had in mind. He had set up systems large enough to encapsulate the eight million citizens he knew resided there. The laws abolished the prison system, as it stood under the old government. Tony had his own methods of incarceration, which were similar in some ways, including confining culprits to a dedicated space. But it was _better._ He had hired rehabilitation experts, therapists, social workers, anyone he thought necessary for actual _reform._

Incarceration rates would _inevitably_ go up, as more people stood against Tony’s new rules. He had cited that anyone who spoke against him would see themselves arrested, or worse. With a population of eight million, some lives would be lost in the process, as an _example_ of what happened to those who disobeyed. In the grand scheme of things, he didn’t necessarily see a problem with that.

People who made over 300 grand a year were expected to donate half their earnings to select charities, as approved by Stark’s regime. Tony was _tired_ of the excuses people made for not sharing some of their wealth with those who truly needed it. He himself had invested in the construction of shelters, women’s homes, community centres, and other public spaces, free for anyone who needed it.

He also understood charity work as not being a long-term solution. The people who used his foundations and financial aid were recruited by him, as soldiers, aid workers, or anything else he saw necessary to running his government. Of course, anyone who chose not to work for him while using these systems were shot on sight. He had no time for dealing with subversives.

Tony had completely overtaken the market for real-estate, weaponry, imports and exports of goods, and all other major sources of income for New York, pricing these to become far more accessible for anyone, never mind the collapse of whatever millionaires knew and loved. He had thousands of his own employees dealing with their individual tasks, assigned to them using Tony’s knowledge of their strengths and weaknesses. Let no one say he wasn’t _considerate_ of his employees’ needs.

Curfews were installed, to monitor night-time movement among the populations of different cities. New York had essentially been an initial experiment, and thus far, the results had proved to be _excellent._ Tony’s own Iron men had patrolled the streets, picking up any deviants and introducing them to his new brand of life, fair and well-contained.

Of course, when any experiment proves to be successful, you work to expand on it. Tony knew this, as a scientist, and how to do this, as a politician. He wore several hats, these being less advertised than his typical description of “genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.” ‘Playboy’ could obviously be omitted, as only Stephen Strange held his heart at this point, _despite_ his clear distaste for Tony’s innovations.

His hold on New York expanded from Maine in the East to Washington out West, and soon he began expanding South. It was obviously easier said than done, but by the time the Federal government had realized the changes Tony was making country-wide, most of them were already bought over, persuaded, or killed. Change was easy to accomplish when you had money and power. It just depended on what your motivations were.

His power spread efficiently, all within a year, and inconsequentially, though he _supposed_ it depended what you would call ‘consequential’ in the first place. The death count had reached a million, but homelessness had gone down by eighty percent! And _no,_ that was not because he had killed a million homeless people. In fact, their population rarely made up the deceased, but instead were more often incarcerated, or simply employed.

The rebel groups that had arisen made up the deceased instead. One of which happened to be the weird sorcerer cult that Stephen had joined, incidentally enough. It was only fitting that Tony’s boyfriend would join the _one_ group actually powerful enough to cause a dent in Tony’s regime.

Realizing this, Tony figured it was about time he visit Stephen. It had been an _incredibly_ long and lonely time without the doctor, and maybe with the time apart, and Tony’s own developments in his leadership, they might be able to make some headway with their relationship after it had been stalled by their sudden rise in conflict.

Tony went alone, in his new and improved armour, flying to Kamar Taj in style. Accompanied by his several drones and an overwhelming sense of excitement, he landed in Nepal, in what he knew would be their early morning. Perhaps Stephen was still sleeping. Tony searched for the engagement ring that led him here, finding it discarded under a hospital bed, having gone unnoticed for _quite a while_ considering the dust that had collected on it.

Seeing the sorcerers begin to circle him in their immediate defence, Tony sent the drones to terrorize the place, corralling students into halls where he knew he couldn’t be interrupted. And what do you know, Christine had shown up! Apparently she hadn’t taken part in their magic lessons, and was easy enough to hold hostage while Tony waited for Stephen to show up.

Tony didn’t know how unprepared he was for the moment Stephen _did_ show up. Among the chaos, and burning, and screaming sorcerers, there he was. He’d _definitely_ built up some muscle mass over the past year or so, his hands were scarred, his eyes were bluer than Tony remembered, and he’d grown facial hair, which Tony had to admit, looked _beautiful._

Their conversation/negotiation was short-lived, as the Ancient One burst onto the scene. Tony was _so close_ to having Stephen back in his arms, hell, he got to _touch_ the man before she came. Lost in his pure anger at the woman, Tony shot her, and didn’t understand the force that was a grieving Stephen Strange until Tony had unceremoniously been sent through a magical gateway, _conjured by Stephen,_ and left back in his penthouse, alone, once more.

So apparently, Stephen could do magic now. Perform sorcery. From the footage JARVIS had recorded while Tony was in Nepal, it had a lot to do with manipulating energies, and the ring the Ancient One had given Stephen just before she died had to do with opening gateways, at the very least. Once _again,_ she still stood in the way of his and Stephen’s relationship!

As upsetting as it was to see his boyfriend grieve, in the few moments Tony was actually in his presence, he was glad the Ancient One was _finally_ dead. From his (admittedly limited) research based on the woman’s background, there was either an incredible amount of evidence that she had been living forever, or evidence that suggested she never lived at all. Tony was only prepared for dealing with the facts, and so, having that particular anomaly out of the way provided him with way more peace than it should have.

But _Stephen,_ he was alive! And apparently doing well, however terrified he was of seeing Tony again. The engineer couldn’t blame him _entirely,_ however, it was ultimately Stephen’s fault that he got injured! Tony would have _never_ willingly hurt his boyfriend, but instead, he just set some reasonable boundaries that had been violated, and so, the punishment was set in accordance with that.

Despite the mess that was their little reunion in Nepal, Tony still missed him. Staring down at the ring in his hand, Tony remembered all the good times he and Stephen had. 

Like their first (and only) Valentine’s Day they had spent together. Tony had gotten up early, seeing Stephen lying enticingly on his side of the bed, sheets covering his ass but leaving nothing else to the imagination, his back and legs entirely exposed.

Tony knew he wasn't always the greatest at romantic gestures. He had either been too over the top, or had forgotten significant dates entirely, in the spare serious relationships he had, few and far between each other. Of course, none of those had proven to be as important as his with Stephen was.

So he did what he knew best: research. There was the typical meal-planning, flower-giving, gift exchange advice he found on mommy blogs and stationery shop websites. But he wanted something _special_ for Stephen. Wanted the doctor to know how committed Tony was, wanted to expel Stephen’s doubts.

Therefore, he had planned a lazy day. While it seemed like something that no efforts would be necessary for, he had still painstakingly gone over every detail of the day, so that Stephen would only ever feel comfort, and love.

When the doctor had finally gotten up and left their bedroom, Tony felt his heart flip seeing the doctor smile at the brunch already plated for the two of them, arranged nicely on the dining table with a large bouquet of blue and red flowers as the centrepiece. Their colours, perfectly intertwined.

“Happy Valentine’s day, babe,” Tony said, walking over to Stephen for a kiss.

“Happy Valentine’s day, Tony,” the doctor responded, dutifully leaning forward to embrace Tony. “You really didn’t have to do all this, all I got you was a gift.”

 _A gift?_ “You didn’t have to do that either, Steph. But here we are, in love on Valentine’s day. We might as well enjoy this, enjoy each other,” Tony said suggestively.

Stephen laughed, and they ate. Tony had a list of movies to watch together. Nothing spectacularly entertaining, so they wouldn’t be too enraptured by the screen and not be able to focus on each other. The movies essentially served as background noise, as they spent the day wrapped around each other.

They had an early dinner before going for a walk, breathing in the crisp air and watching the other lovey-dovey couples stroll along the streets. When they got back home to the penthouse, Tony and Stephen exchanged their gifts.

Tony had gotten Stephen another watch, for the doctor to add to his collection. The engraving on the back was the sentence _Our Love is Eternity,_ with a simple _T.S×S.S_ underneath. Stephen loved it, of course, asking Tony to put in on for him before Tony could open his gift.

Tony ripped open the wrapping paper, too excited by the possibilities of what Stephen got him. He had been trying to get the man to reveal the secret the whole day, but Stephen was excellent at diverting the conversation, and distracting Tony with other things. Tony took the cover off the box, and saw a gorgeous rectangular pendant hanging from a thin gold chain.

“Open it,” Stephen prompted. Tony did, finding the little ridge that opened the locket, and it opened into three panels made for three separate photos. The middle had a picture of him and Stephen, smiling at each other, in what looked like a park, which means some unsubtle cameraman had probably gotten a photo of them during their frequent evening walks. The right side had a picture of Tony and Peter, the one where Peter was holding his Stark Industries certificate upside down. The left photo was of Tony, Pepper and Rhodey, smiling during some gala or another.

“I wanted you to remember the people that care about you, when things get difficult. I know Afghanistan was traumatizing, and that you’re still struggling with that, but we’ll still love you, nonetheless,” Stephen explained. “We’ll be there for you in the same way you’d be there for us.”

Tony felt his throat tighten at Stephen’s words. Not from any sense of vulnerability, God knows the man had seen the worst sides of the engineer, but from the idea of Stephen putting such thought into his gift. Tony smiled back at the doctor, moving to hug him. “Thank you, Steph,” he whispered.

The rest of the night had been spent cuddled against each other, layered under too many blankets, and enjoying each other’s company, before reality would eventually intervene. At that point, they were safe.

Bringing himself back to the present, Tony pocketed the ring, before reaching for the locket he still wore under his shirt. Opening it, he knew he would do _anything_ to get Stephen back, having tried once, and being more than willing to try again. And again. And again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> Okay, I know my upload schedule is a mess, but I'm heading into reading week, so I had some spare time for writing! And so, here is a surprise chapter. There'll be another this coming Saturday, and then we'll go back to the every-other-week updates (probably).
> 
> The locket I described Stephen giving Tony looks like Peeta's from Catching Fire, if you want that reference. I just thought it looked so cool.
> 
> The Stark Authority has officially come into its full power! What do we think about that? By the way, I don't agree with *a lot* of the laws described, I'm just describing his regime as something that seeks change in ways that are TOO black and white to really work, in the long-term anyways.
> 
> Also: we're about halfway through my outline! I don't know how that would translate into a chapter count, because my outline is a hot mess, but... maybe we're halfway? A little less, a little more?
> 
> And, because tomorrow's Valentine's day, I figured I'd add in some fluff, in the midst of all this chaos. So... happy Valentine's, happy Lunar new year, and wash your hands.
> 
> Kudos and comments always appreciated! 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)  
> [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


	37. Tête-à-Tête

Stephen felt himself being run ragged. Ever since the death of the Ancient One, and his subsequent becoming the Sorcerer Supreme, he had been working, non-stop, to try and save the people who had fallen under Stark’s emerging regime.

Christine had been a huge help. Stephen knew he was lucky to have her in these moments, through his grief and responsibility. He stopped himself from lashing out when he could, from stress or sadness, acknowledging she was in pain herself, and he didn’t want to risk losing her for something so temporary.

After Tao died, some of the members of Kamar Taj had left, not trusting Stephen to be experienced enough to lead them. Mordo and Wong had been incredibly useful in persuading several others to stay, convincing them that Stephen was more than competent enough, otherwise Tao wouldn’t have chosen him as her successor. Unfortunately, he still had his decisions questioned every step of the way.

In the fight against the Stark Authority, some rebel groups that had leaders Stephen occasionally met with. While powerless in comparison to the sorcerers of Kamar Taj, these groups still had a fierceness and determination that Stephen admired, despite how often they tended to get themselves into trouble because of this. His own sorcerers had been given the title ‘the Wizards,’ in an article by Stark’s company, much to Stephen’s chagrin. The engineer’s tendencies to give everyone a nickname hadn’t strayed in his regime.

Knowing that Tony knew the location of Kamar Taj meant they needed to leave, set up their base somewhere else. Otherwise they’d remain vulnerable. Even this decision of Stephen’s was put up for discussion. Stephen didn’t necessarily want people to follow his demands without feeling they had a choice (like Tony desired), but he was _tired_ of having to fight those who were supposed to be _on his side_ for a little cooperation.

Eventually they did move over, to the United States. The move was easy enough, considering their ability to form magical gateways at will. They couldn’t settle in New York, since it was the epicentre of Stark’s regime, and they could be more easily apprehended there. Instead, they chose somewhere with wide open spaces, just in case their magical training (which would still continue) went wrong, and they needed to stay undetected.

They chose California, perfect for being the farthest it could be from New York, the former on the West Coast, the latter in the East. While Tony had properties all over the continental United States, Stephen still felt safe enough knowing there was _no way_ they could be tracked now, unless someone within their group violated his instructions and revealed their new settlement.

The sorcerers had become well-known as one of the strongest groups against Tony’s rule. They had initially gone for something more subtle, but the engineer’s drones were excellent for quickly catching them on camera, and transmitting the information before the drones could be destroyed. Stephen had been on the receiving end of a lot of criticism for this, violating the apparent rules of Kamar Taj that their existence remain discreet, regardless of the circumstances.

Stephen could care less, however. When he saw just how many people his sorcerers had saved in circumstances when they might have stayed hidden away, it was, without a doubt, _worth it,_ to show their faces in public. Their numbers dwindled, because of the sheer powerhouse that was The Stark Authority, and Stephen’s new leadership seen without faith.

Christine and him were now counting the masters that had fled, and the ones that had stayed. Sitting at the dining table in the large abandoned hotel the sorcerers chose to reside in, Stephen sipped his tea, poring over the handwritten records on dusty manuscripts. Across from him, Christine was doing the same, taking occasional notes from what she read, and what Stephen reported to her, unwilling to write on his own while his hands were shaking so much that day.

“So, are we going to talk about it?” she prompted, seemingly out of nowhere. As far as Stephen was concerned, she had been just as engrossed in her reading as he was in his, until a moment ago.

“Talk about what?” he asked, squinting his eyes to try and focus back on his records.

“Everything.” She paused, probably waiting for him to inquire further. When he chose not to, she leaned forward, clasping her hands in front of her on the table. “Come on, we’ve barely spoken about anything since you became Sorcerer Supreme.”

“That’s because I’ve been _busy,_ ” he snarked. “And you’ve been too. We’re still busy, actually, so if we might get back to the task at hand—”

“Come on Stephen, I _know._ We have important things to get done, and they need to get done as soon as possible. But Rome wasn’t built in a day. It certainly hadn’t fallen in one. So, no matter your best efforts, Stark won’t get taken down with a work-binge like this, as much as you’d like that to happen.”

“I know that, Christine, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t _try._ People are getting hurt, and I had let that happen when I was… with him. This is penance.” By this point, Stephen had given up trying to continue reading, especially when his friend had become so adamant they talk. He leaned back in his chair, eyeing her levelly while she gathered her thoughts.

“His _actions_ are not your fault,” she said vehemently, the same way she had said them a million times before. Stephen’s internalized sense of guilt had not been as easily overcome as he once thought. “His _choices_ and his _beliefs_ are not your fault. The only thing you can take credit for is having the strength to leave him, especially when the alternative might have been that much easier. Certainly less painful.”

Stephen roughly wiped away tears with one scarred hand, before staring at them both resting in his lap. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he answered honestly.

“I just want you to tell me how you’re feeling,” she said sincerely. “I can tell you’ve been holding some things back, and I don’t know if it’s for my benefit or yours, but at a certain point, repressing everything will do you more harm than good.”

Stephen scoffed, glaring at the far end of the room, brightened by a large window. “Where do I even start?” he asked, not bothering to stifle his sarcasm, which often arose when facing emotional turmoil.

“I miss Tao,” Christine said, knowing her death weighed heavily on Stephen’s mind.

“I miss her too,” Stephen sighed, leaning forward to reach his tea before sitting back once more. “I don’t think she had to die the way she did. There were so many other ways it could have gone.” His voice cracked with the last word.

“I… I think she knew what she was doing. She always seemed to know more than she let on.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that she left us without any _warning_ in the first place. We didn’t— I couldn’t—” Stephen slammed a fist on the table, startling the both of them with his outburst. “I just depended on her, and she knew that, and she let that happen to her anyway.”

“She loved you like a son, Stephen. You must have known that,” Christine said reassuringly.

“If she really loved me, she wouldn’t have left me.”

“She left you to prove she loved you. She saved you from Tony, and if she didn’t, things could have taken a turn for the worse.”

“Things _already_ took a turn for the worse, Chris,” Stephen lamented. “She _died._ And left us here to figure things out by ourselves. She didn’t even leave a hint of what we should do.”

“Tao probably didn’t think she needed to. She trusted your judgement from the start, and I think she knew about the limited time she had with you, and made the most of it.”

Stephen stared absently at the wood-grain table. “Yeah, maybe. I just wish… I wish she survived.”

“Me too. Maybe we can visit her when all this is over.”

The Ancient One had been buried in the courtyard of Kamar Taj, her life celebrated in a small memorial before Stephen had moved his group over to the US. He remembered having to remain stoic while his masters cried, before moving to his private quarters to panic, isolated from everyone else.

“Yeah, I think we should. If this war ever ends.” Despite it having been only a year since the Stark Authority had risen, every hour dragged on with Stephen’s efforts. The work seemed to never end, delegating tasks to others, fighting Stark’s drones, and the occasional live armies. It was proving difficult to pacify the masses, while Stephen himself still felt so unsure of everything he said or did.

“How did you feel seeing him again?” Christine asked. She didn’t have to specify who.

“I don’t know, it all happened so _fast._ One moment Kamar Taj was peaceful, the next it was chaos. And he was there! In the midst of it all, just… waiting for me.” Stephen shuddered, reliving those moments. “When I said I’d go with him, I felt myself _slip_ back into a version of myself that could survive him, but it wasn’t _me,_ it was… whatever he wanted me to be.”

Christine nodded, encouraging Stephen to continue.

“And then Tao came out, and suddenly I was _safe._ Then I wasn’t safe again. So I did what I had to do to save myself, and the rest of us. I don’t think Tony expected that to happen.” Stephen could only _imagine_ the shock on his ex’s features as Stephen sent him through the gateway so suddenly.

“I’m grateful that you did. As skilled as the sorcerers of Kamar Taj are, I do think they’re quite rigid with their forms of defence, meaning their actions are too predictable. Your flexibility might be their greatest strength at the moment, even if they can’t see it.”

“Yeah. Thanks Chris,” Stephen mumbled.

Christine reached forward to rest her hand on one of his own, looking like the greatest contrast between the smaller, smooth hand, and the larger, scarred and trembling hand below it. Stephen didn’t like to look at his injuries too often, finding them to be a difficult reminder of his shortcomings. But the idea of someone once again _touching_ his hands without any sense of pity or remorse felt so… good. He hadn’t felt any sense of good in a very long time.

He turned his hand over to hold hers properly. Just then, his cloak, which had been resting on his shoulders and remaining surprisingly at ease during their conversation (especially in comparison to its usually energetic demeanour) reached out an edge as well, to curl around their already intertwined hands. Stephen and Christine laughed lightly at the Cloak’s attempts to comfort them, always tuned in to their needs (especially Stephen’s) and willing to help.

“I think you should name your cloak,” Christine suggested, smoothing it down with her thumb.

“Why?” Stephen asked, genuinely confused. He looked pointedly at the collar of his cloak, which proceeded to stroke his face in something akin to petting. “It doesn’t seem to care, one way or the other.”

Christine stared at Stephen and the Cloak’s interaction with nothing short of amusement. “I think it deserves better to be called ‘it,’ first off. Maybe ‘they.’ And second, they have a personality. Just like everyone else does. Even pets get names. Considering this is a sentient, ancient relic, the Cloak of Levitation is probably just called that _because_ of the same rigidity that holds Kamar Taj back.”

Stephen smiled at the Cloak, its— _their_ weight still heavy and comforting on his shoulders. “Alright.” He paused, shrugging to get them to go float in front of him. The cloak did, not needing words to understand what he wanted, flew until they were a few feet from Stephen and Christine. Stephen observed them, the Cloak uncaring of their master’s obvious ogling.

He knew the Cloak was made from layered Japanese wool, had embroidered patterns and a printed checkered lining. The gold clasps had a ruby inlay, which rarely attached when he actually wore them. Despite their extravagance, Stephen knew its personality to be even more significant. The cloak was loyal, powerful, and lovable, as well as comforting or snarky when they wanted to be.

“I think I’ll call them Levi,” Stephen said. The cloak considered the name for a second, before nodding with their collar and moving to embrace Stephen once more. He laughed, having felt more loved than he had in what felt like a very long time.

“Why Levi?” Christine asked.

“Oh, you know. ‘Cloak of Levitation.’ Shorten Levitation to Levi. The name reflects their abilities.”

She smiled, appreciating the thought processes of Stephen Strange’s rarer, happier mind. Their moments of bliss were short-lived, however, when Wong walked into the room.

“Strange, you’re needed,” the librarian said tersely, the same way he said everything else. Without another word, Wong left the room, with the clear expectation that Stephen follow him.

Stephen felt his smile fade, and Christine’s disappointment at their time lost. Unfortunately, he rarely had a choice in the matter. No one else was as qualified to lead, despite their longer stints at Kamar Taj before he arrived. They all still trusted Tao, and so, they were made to trust Stephen.

He nodded goodbye to her apologetically, before rushing out of the room to catch up to Wong, Levi on his shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“Stark’s threatening certain groups in the West. Apparently, some rebel groups were starving, and were hoping to seize his warehouses for resources and shelter. But they screwed up, and he’s not giving them the benefit of the doubt through arrests.”

In other words, Tony was suddenly on track to kill, rather than detain, the riot group. Perhaps if Stephen could overtake the drones, or army, or whatever Tony sent to do his dirty work, he could get a share of the resources to feed and support his own sorcerers. Hopefully, the blood spilled could be reduced with help.

“Alright,” he acknowledged, resigned at the fact they had to save _another_ over-reaching rebel group. Stephen rubbed his temples, trying to think of a plan. “How many did Tony send to retaliate?”

“That’s just it Stephen, He hasn’t sent anyone.” The fact that Wong used his first name meant the librarian was truly troubled by this. More often than not, Tony sent hostile forces by the masses, without hesitation. This was something different, and therefore, something they couldn’t hope to predict. What were Tony’s intentions here?”

“I don’t want to put others at risk for something like this,” Stephen began to say.

“Strange, I’m not sure—”

“I’m going to go alone, alright? I don’t know what he’s planning here, and I don’t want anyone else to suffer the consequences of my ill-informed decisions.”

Stephen could see Wong’s protests building up. Before the man could say anything, however, Stephen spoke again. “I won’t get caught. Trust me. I have Levi on my side, and I’m more skilled than anyone else here.” He knew his abilities to learn quickly, and had been continually training with the rest of the masters, building his strength and resilience in case something like this were to happen.

Wong stared at him worriedly. Apparently, Stephen was not the best at placating others.

“I think it’s our only shot,” he heard from behind him. Turning around, he saw Christine in the doorway, who had obviously been listening in on their conversation. Seeing she had their attention, she continued. “Stephen’s right, as much as I hate to say it. We can’t risk anyone else.”

Stephen was glad for her agreement, though it was slightly shocking to see it happen so quickly. Looking to Wong, the librarian only sighed, defeated. “Alright. If anything goes wrong, you escape, _immediately,_ I don’t care what the circumstances are. We can’t afford to lose you as Sorcerer Supreme.”

Stephen nodded, feeling warm knowing Wong’s concern for his safety. He chose not to comment on it. Opening a gateway with the sling ring he already had attached to his belt, Stephen looked back at Christine and Wong once more, before stepping through to save the rebel group, and to see Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my guys, gals and non-binary pals! Hope y'all are doing well.
> 
> Sorry for the later-day posting, life got crazy. But technically, it's still Saturday. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! The bi-monthly updates will continue from this point.
> 
> The cloak has a name! I don't like referring to the cloak as 'it,' so, we're including a soft scene of Christine and Stephen bonding over the beautiful relic that Levi is.
> 
> I really liked this chapter. I feel like the plot's just been flying by, so I wanted them to have a chance to pause, reflect, process some things. Hopefully you liked it too.
> 
> We've reached the prologue, by the way! We're caught up to the events that started The Stark Authority. Now we'll see how it fights against any and all rebel groups (including Stephen's sorcerers).
> 
> Next chapter though, ooh! I have big plans. Comments and kudos always appreciated, I really do love the support this fic gets. Wash your hands. 💛
> 
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/itschocopiggysart/)  
> [Tumblr](https://chocopiggy.tumblr.com/)


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